new rain late

Because of the rain, I remembered the poem "After the empty mountains and new rains, the weather is late and autumn comes." Yes, it's raining again. I have been in the capital for a few months. Although the weather is hot, it is also rainy. Every evening or just before night, it suddenly rains. Maybe it's the wrong month for me, maybe I'm a rain-catcher.

When you think of rain, you must think of your hometown. The rain in my hometown, before and after the rain, the air is always fresh, like the rain has wiped the turbid air with a strong cleaning agent. But the rain in this capital is always strange, and it feels more and more filthy as it falls, as if the water on the ground is filthy and annoying. It was raining outside now, dripping, and there was only a sticky feeling on my face.

Not to mention the rest, it was obviously a hot rain, and the paradox was that mold had grown in my room. There is a large white patch on the wall that has to be removed every week. Even after using the dehumidifier (it took less than half a month to pick up the dehumidifier, it had accumulated more than half of the water), I still felt that the damp mold was everywhere. The so-called people miss their hometown in a foreign land, I probably have such a seed in my heart, which is quietly growing.

That day, a friend in my hometown specially took a picture of the rainy sky in Malacca for me to see. The dark clouds are dense, the rain is like a silver thread, the photo is still, but it seems to move. The rain in the capital is not bad, but when it hits people, I always feel that it will cause cancer, as if the rainwater was made of chemical additives, which makes people feel uncomfortable.

Now it's raining outside the window, and it's crashing on the ground, but it doesn't feel like Zhou Zuoren wrote in the preface to "The Book of Rainy Days". Zhou Jiao didn’t go home, he was trapped in the capital, his eyes were always staring at the computer screen, and he had headphones in his ears, listening to classical music, pop music, or other random things. I suddenly remembered the story of Dabing. My sister often said that my father likes to tell this story to persuade our children to be diligent in being a human being, and don’t wait for others to feed you.

After thinking about it, I laughed. I told the story of Dabing to today's children. They may have thousands of reasons to refute. Why do parents who go out to do things don't hire a helper to take care of their children? Times have changed, and everyone's perspective on the world has also changed. I always feel that people of my generation still believe in the stories, myths, and fairy tales that I heard when I was a child. Why is this? Looking out the window, the rain is gradually decreasing, and the filaments are underground. Only a rainy day can evoke some stories.