Rain falling, it's a melancholic sound. Millions of droplets landing on millions of leaves like they did on your best days and your worst, days embedded in our memories, (the good and the bad), as they will in your childrens' and grandchildrens', as they did in your parents' and grandparents.
It's the permanence of things in the face of our own impermance: the beauty of the world hath made me sad; this beauty that will pass.
This is why we must hold onto our past, appreciation is relative. Beauty imprints itself during childhood, its value appreciated in adulthood.
And that's my thought for today, tomorrow tornadoes!