Window open to listen to the balm of rain, the natural kind involving water falling from clouds, pattering down outside, inhaling the soothing petrichor scent. I think I can hear all the plants and trees outside sighing with relief and contentment after a prolonged bout of dry weather in what should still be our region's rainy season.

(can also hear the deafening roar of jets, we are still in the middle of a war, but one can dream)