With an artist’s eye

Everything was dry, no life stirred. Everything was dried to the yellowness of the oppressive heat. Yellow and brown, no blue, no green. The sky was a tainted yellow with a huge, roaring ball of fire spewing out what seemed like abuses on every little object on the earth. Nothing which could move wanted to, for fear it’ll sweat itself out and crumble away like a dry leaf that was stepped on. Everything seemed lifeless; the sun had sucked life out of every one of them.

And then it happened. A drop of a magic potion fell on the earth. Everything sprung to life. The drooping plant shook off its brown-ness and woke up, stood tall and proud. The bird decided to clear its throat and sing, and others woke up to its music and applauded. The sun took off his fiery glance and instead gave a benign smile, present for warm comfort. A calm blue took over the sky, as the gentle sun looked on at all His subjects on earth coming back to life. Everything which could move now stretched itself and got ready to rejoice. The colours changed from brown and yellow to green, blue and red, purple blooms dotting around too. Everything became a celebration.
The magic potion of life, the potion called rain.