Every new season starts predictably with a sputter, a stop, and a start again.
Today, glorious: The sky, the clouds! The sound, the rumble, and the rain.
And the change itself. The precipice. Teetering, until now, [soon] where the weather finally unleashes long torrential rains unto this dry land.
PS – Humorously, much like the recluse monk, Ryokan I have my minor and selfish complaint – “I’d be much happier if my roof didn’t leak and I didn’t have mold on the walls of my shower.”
Even so, Mexico, I love you. Imperfections and all.