Raindrops.

There’s something about the way the sky's a palette. One minute the sky's filled with such stunning shades of blue, so many it’s unable to even begin counting them. The blues are illuminated by the paper clouds, and I find myself staring up at this beauty in disbelief. I reach out but I can never stretch just quite far enough for the cotton clouds to be placed in the palm of my hand. It adds to the mystery of it, but despite my inquisitive nature, I never want to spoil the magic by finding out. Sometimes the palette is the mix of many shades from the sun. The oranges, reds, purple and the occasional splash of pink just seem to fit perfectly into the colour scheme and the way they blend into each other with perfection is constantly on my mind. It gives me faith in humanity.

I like the sun, but I love the rain.

There’s nothing like catching a piece of the sky in the palm of your hand, feeling it’s remains cling to every strand of your hair. The magic seeps through your clothes and runs against your skin, and somehow the enchantment runs into your veins. The rain is a perfect dance partner, it will move in sync with your body as you let everything go and worship the shades of grey ruining the palette. It’s still beautiful despite the negative connotations. Umbrellas and Wellington boots add colour to the scene, it brings optimism to such a rainy day.

Raindrops give me a reason for a fresh start.