Le’Asia Harrison

Finding Hope

I used to love the smell of the air after it rained. Though the smell was hard to describe, it reminded me of lying in the middle of a meadow; every smell its strongest, every animal its loudest, and the sun shining its brightest. It tickled my mother at times that I would describe a smell as beautiful but there was no other word for it. It saddened me to witness that all that beauty, everything that once was, was now gone.