Wonderful Rain

Rain, rain.. blessed rain.  What is it about rain that makes my blood rush?What is it about rain that soothes me and lulls me into serenity and slumber?  What is it about rain anyway? 

Well.. rain.  Rain is a miracle.  Man tries to make rain and fails, because rain doesn't come from man.  Ever.  Rain is part of the growth process.  Rain is water, and water makes all things pure.  Rain nourishes the flora and fauna from those who've built habitats surrounding my abode.  Rain purifies the heavens.  After the rain you can smell .. again.  Everything is fresh. 

It's like never eating -or even liking- salad, but that one salad you crave comes to you cold and crisp with everything in it freshly washed -with dew that lingers. 

Rain is the one thing that brings me closer to the waterfall to which I can never hike.  Rain keeps me hydrated.  I can hear the rain, on the rooftop, on the grass outside, through the leaves in the trees and on the petals of roses.  I can't smell too much rain because the rain gathers all other toxins and washes the air so it's free of that horrid debris.  But I can feel the rain.  When the weather is warm I love to feel those droplets, on my arms and face, my shoulders and forehead, making my hair strangled and mangy.  I lift my arms and dance in circles in the rain.  I run through the rivers in the streets that are brought about by that rain.  I don't care if my clothes are soaked or become muddy from this rain.. the more, the merrier.  When it's cold and I'm outside by myself in the rain, I find myself a perch under a branch or tree or rock, and I wait.  I wait to see what insects come out or run away, I wait to see the dripping, drip, dripping of all this rain that won't let up.  There's crackling and dropping, light dripping and plopping.  Trickle, trickle little rain, big rain, rain. 

Time to go inside for cocoa and a blankie :-)  

Blessed Rain

I headed out to run my errands just as the rain starting dropping. It's been windy all morning. The garbage cans are knocked over, as are my fake plants that are supposed to decorate my fromt door.. left over from Christmas :-( I think part of me doesn't want to go out on a day like today until the rain starts. I knew it was coming. I went to Michaels and it was still windy and rainy. Raindrops were getting fatter and I put my hair up so the ends wouldn't get soggy. Pony tails tend to get gnarly, okay? I came out of the store and see shoppers running this way and that way as they try to dodge these fat droplets that come at you 20 shots per second. I wanted to waltz in it. I'm wearing light shoes that are supposed to only be worn with dress socks or bare feet. I'm wearing thick socks with them so my feet feel a little scrunched. Nonetheless I loped easily to my car which was only about 15-20 feet away. I could feel every drop as they hit my face in kisses. The wind rustled my hair out of my twist a little bit, and I had to keep pushing it back behind my ear. I unlocked my car, plugged in my iPhone, lights on, wipers on, and backed out so I could hit the second store.

I got to Safeway with my blades going at medium-slow speed. The rain-x treatment is still holding up, so I don't need to wipe as often. I didn't drive quickly, but I didn't lolly-gag either. Again, I felt like dancing in this rain. I got out of my car and walked to the front door carelessly, wishing I had more time and were farther away so I could take longer. The other part of me has more sense.. it knows my shoes couldn't handle water for much longer. I came out of the store after only 5 minutes and stood for a moment. The clouds are the shade of gunmetal. I can still see the effects of strong winds. They're still churning with possibilities of thunder and lightning. My world haults to thunder.. abruptly. I let those fat drops slap my cheeks again and again, just under my eyes on the apples of my cheeks, on my forehead and under my lip. Some hit my lashes and I'm forced to blink. But if I could I'd keep my eyes open for it all. Rain is one of thise miraculous things man simply cannot duplicate, hard as we might try. Rain is sporadic, chaotic. The weatherman can predict it's arrival based on scientific patterns, but they are only predictions -at a percentage. I love this about the rain. And I love that rain is wet. I love that it can be warm or cold. I love standing out in the rain and closing my eyes and feeling that rain. I love watching from a window. It's hard for me to read when it's raining because all I want to do is watch the rain. I want to snuggle up and look on in wonder and amazement. Blessed rain. Oh how I love thee.

Journal Entry: Storms

I have a guilty-pleasure-confession: I have a thing for storms. These are true thoughts.. with some fantasy riddled in. Some guilty desires maybe.. I have some memories I never want to forget however I am forgetting them physically. What I remember the most are my feelings.

The sky would become black with rage as if it were a cauldron of hate, bubbling, boiling over and bursting with power. You can see so many defined bulges in the formations, like they were ready to pound in sheets at any moment. I loved days like those. Some days we'd get out of school early because the rain would seem to never stop pouring and the streets would flood.. not just any streets, but the country back-roads to which there was no detour. Even the air around me seemed to have a charge like it would shake my bones and I'd feel it through to my soul. The storm would get to me. It would put me in a trance. Every storm. Every pitch-black day was exciting.

I wanted it to rain on my wedding day, and indeed it did. I wanted it to rain all through my honeymoon too, so that we could cuddle closely and feel all the power in the air from the storm. I wanted the thunder to rumble through the walls so we'd have to get closer -so we wouldn't have to be afraid. I had always pictured my honeymoon perfectly with the rain and the lightning since I never pictured anything else about my wedding or such.

This is the picture I keep in my mind: The rain would pour all over the windows and you could hear it pounding on the rooftop and on the glass threatening to break through with a houl. You could hear it through the leaves on the trees and on the streets and puddles. You could hear the wind rustling the trees, making them sway, rocking from weakness. The power would go out and the house would start to get cold. I'd find a blanket and a soft seat -probably the couch or an easy chair- all I want to do it watch every drop, hear every ping and plop, drip and drop. It's a miracle to me. What it does to my soul can't be explained. This is how much I absolutely love the rain.