Fuente: https://stockcake.com/
A week of rain and strong winds.
At first, I was incredibly bored, as it wasn’t even possible to go for a walk, let alone drive, with the streets flooded and trees falling.
But a conversation with a Canadian friend helped me see things differently.
After patiently listening to my complaints about the torrential rains, he responded with gratitude, telling me that the precipitation was necessary for the plants and especially for the farmers in our prairies who were beginning the planting season (as a curious fact, according to annual rainfall levels, Calgary is considered to have a semi-arid climate, which is why the locals appreciate the rain, not so much the snow.)
After that conversation with my friend, I reconsidered my gloomy thoughts, both those outside and inside.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning that hit my window served as a kind of illumination, one of those moments they call Eureka.
Instead of dark clouds and trees swaying in the wind, I was comforted by the vibrant greens of spring, smelled the scent of damp, grateful earth, and pictured farmers, ready for planting and later, harvesting. I even saw my silhouette on horseback, there on the horizon, flanked by the Rocky Mountains.
It’s incredible that from my armchair, without even lifting a finger, I completely changed the way I looked at my settings.
In the end, this stormy week turned out to be productive.
Thanks to my friend, I realized a simple truth, but one with great transformative power:
Every observer has the power to create and modify their surroundings.
The sun came out at my house.
