A gentle sound with no rhythm took away all of the tiredness of the night. I sat up from my bed and craned my neck to look outside the window of my dorm. The sights outside the window got blurred under the orange street light. Just few seconds later, a few raindrops hit the glass window of my room, and every beat on it excited each cell of my body.

I stared at the blurred spot caused by raindrop hitting on the window and watched the rain flow down in lines. Soon the picture was dimmed by the running lines and I allowed my mind floating with the beauty of fuzziness.

I remembered while I was living in the countryside with my grandparents that on a rainy day, I would stay out in the yard, lie on the grass and let the rain wet my clothes. I would just lean my head a little bit and hear the rain collapse with the grass, the mud, the rocks, the surface of muddles and my skin. Some frogs would show off their voices by this moment, I could see them, but I know they are somewhere behind those tall grass. All of the sounds are in different tones and sound like a concert without a conductor.

Taking a deep breath, the mixed smell of mud and grass, added with a scent of rain would refresh my nose, as well as my lung. Sometimes, the peaceful moment wouldn't last long, since my grandmother would yell at me from the door asking me to go inside and stay away from the “humid weather.” I would just lay there like I was sleeping and pretend I didn't hear her words. If she got enough from my behavior, she would come and take me back home by pulling my ears. If that really happens, she wouldn't care for the mud and the wet grass dirty her pink furry slippers and she would put one hand on her hip and one hand on my ears to drag me home like an adult cat pulling a kitty back to their cat litter.

Passing the door, I would see my grandfather relaxing on his wooden hand rocking chair and him laughing at me. My grandmother would talk on and on while she pulled me back, however, either the pain on my ear or her long speech would stop my excitement of the rain. While she’s careless, I would catch the chance to quickly turn around and run away from her. When she realizes that I fled from her, the next second she would see me jumping and forgetting myself in the muddles, from one to another.

I kept laughing from those memories at that backyard. It was so joyful to live somewhere away from the city. I gazed at the raindrops beating on the window and forgot the time in the memory until I felt the “rain” wet my eyes, I knew those are only in memories; I can only keep them with me in the rain.