The first hush of rain on dry leaves settles the dust from the day's walk, cool breath against tired skin. Low thunder rumbles like a distant drum, calling the earth to remember how to wait. Each drop that lands on the tin roof counts down like a prayer, slowing the heartbeat until even the wind holds still. In this pause, the mind unclenches — a quiet exhale for someone learning how to come home to peace, barefoot on the porch of tomorrow.