The wind rustling through the leaves softly hugging the trees as they sway from side to side. A cockerel sounding his call in the distance, reminding us of the day as the clouds block out the morning sun. A butterfly the size of my hand flutters through the shadows of the green, its speckled wings clapping gracefully as it bounces from leaf to leaf. Rays of sun light fight their way through the undergrowth of the lush green that lies beyond my toes. As a curtain of rain draws in on the land, the soft drops fall from the sky, dance through mid air and burst into thousands of their kind, landing on leaves, petals and the ground beneath. The birds take shelter, the butterfly nowhere to be seen and the rain drops form fast flourishing streams in and among the undergrowth. Gushing from the roof above the porch, the single drops have now sworn allegiance to one another as they poor on to the ground and create small currents racing frantically to reach their destination far beyond. Like a roaring lion the rain belts down on the land. Furious, powerful, graceful and poring life onto every spec of dust. Nothing is safe from its glorious reign, as the heavens open and release their reservoirs. Its sound overwhelming on the senses, rolling across the green and covering everything that lies in its path. The bright leaves of the banana plant have lessened their shine and the ferns appear weighed down, as if filled with grief, when almost at the blink of an eye, the rain is banished by the sun and the clouds follow the curtain as it moves on to a new stage. The noise of a thousand miniature drums has been replaced by the light chirping of the bird that now seeks a watering hole amidst the mud and greenery. The day returns, making way for a fresh breeze that fills the air, lifting the senses once again as the earth now begins to breath. Exhaling deeply, the breath rises from the ground in the heat of the afternoon sun. The calm settles in. The glorious rain has staged its last performance.