Troubles Washed Away by the Mountain Rain

Troubles have been washed away by the mountain rain; I'll retrieve them later when I descend. As the rain falls, the mountain grows quiet. The stone-paved path glistens, tree leaves drip with water, and the entire mountain is left with only two sounds: the gentle patter of raindrops and the slowed rhythm of my own breathing. I take shelter in a tea pavilion halfway up the mountain and brew a pot of hot tea. Amid the rising steam, I suddenly realize: unanswered messages and tangled trivialities... they can all temporarily be "out of service." The rain falls unhurriedly, as if nature itself has pressed the pause button. It seems to say, "Just sit there and daydream. All the messy stuff can wait a couple of days." Mist drifts past the eaves, and the aroma of tea mingles with the earthy freshness. In this moment, I understand: it’s not the rain that has trapped me; it’s that I’ve finally allowed myself to return, even briefly, to nature. As I descend the mountain, the rain has yet to stop, but something within me has quietly cleared up.