Rainy Autumn Night

It was a chilly Sunday evening in Amsterdam.
I walked past the Rijksmuseum passage, listening to a group of string artists playing Vivaldi's Winter in F Minor.
The performance was cool, I applauded them and walked away.

The rain fell quite hard and I regret not bringing my umbrella; but well the wind blew heavily through the rain, I could see the rain fell almost horizontally under the street light.
Umbrella would be pointless, I thought to myself.
A group of teenagers biked past me, some of them held an umbrella on one hand and held the bike on the other.
Not a care in this world despite even their eyes struggled to open fully. You know, the Dutch, they're not made of sugar. So when it rains, it should not matter. Or so the saying goes.

Starving, I walked faster and faster only to realize how beautiful this city has been all this time.
The dimmed street light, the canals, the yellow trees, the cute corner shops, the iconic architecture, and the bikes.
Maybe it was the rain, or that were less people in the street.
But this city has never looked prettier.

I took a deep breath to inhale the smell of rains, or simply just to breathe.
The air was crisp, and nice. Oh how I love the smell of the rain.
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I thought to myself, maybe I am putting my graduation goggles on now that everything starts to look multiple times prettier than how I saw it when I first came.
But really, Amsterdam in the fall is such a charming sight even when the weed smell is getting too strong sometimes.