Rainy Day Conversation...

There has always been something magical about the rain for me. Something purifying, as if the Earth itself was trying to scrub itself clean, to absolve itself of all the sins that take place on its surface. The sky is neither the blue of day or the black of night, merely an endless horizon of white like a blank canvas waiting anxiously for colour. A fresh start. It's a nice thought, I suppose, but it's just a fantasy. The rain is no reprieve, and those caught below are often wet and miserable. Still I sometimes like to sit inside, sheltered from the relentless fat drops, and imagine it is the former.

It was on this rainy morning that I had my first real conversation with Chris since we parted ways back in December, albiet an online one. We talked about our respective trips and plans for afterwards. It felt good to have that kind of talk again after months of the same tired discussion travellers have with each other over and over again. I had forgotten the sensation of talking with someone who already knows me, and knows me well. We might or might not reunite in Peru, and I can't help but think how strange it would be to meet up again. It would be good though. He's the closest link I have to home and he's hundreds of miles away and in a different country.