It has been a month and I miss the sound of rain pouring over our roof, the smell of dew on a bright and cool morning.
I miss the sound of church bells ringing at 6 in the morning to call on its parishoners.
I miss the cool gusts of wind that makes me close my eyes and feel every cool touch caress my face, hugging me on a particularly warm day.
I miss cold and misty dawns where I hug my arms to protect them from the cold.
I miss the dark and heavy clouds, forming adorable shapes on a blue canvas.
I miss the sound of water falling off a cliff, rushing through the river and into the sea.
I miss the beautiful lights that dance across a dark sky, warning me of the possible pouring of rain.
I miss the sound of dogs barking, howling, growling and even purring.
I miss the sound of cocks crowing at dawn–or just about any time of the day, echoing each other.
I miss the sound of children’s laughter as they play little games on sidewalks or on empty streets.
I miss all these and it has only been a month.