I love rain. I love cool, rainy, windy days that are not fit for man nor beast, which makes sense because I am neither. I love the smell of rain. I love the sound of it even more. Whether it’s a hard, driving rain, or a soft gentle misty rain, there’s always a sound coming from my fireplace that soothes me. I feel safe in the rain. I feel calmed by it.
I love looking at it, and have been known to move my chair around to face the windows and just stare at it for hours and hours, not reading or knitting or doing anything beyond simply watching it fall.
Right now it is a driving rain. I chose this moment to walk to the mailbox just so I could feel the force of it against my umbrella. The point in time when I re-entered the house was glorious with a rush of triumph over the elements, and now I’m warm and dry with the cat looking up at me contemplating why I would go out when even she wouldn’t.
I relish the upcoming hours after the rain stops and the driveway and roof are all clean. The rain has gathered the debris from the street and put it in a nice straight line where I can just sweep it once and it’s gone. The leaves on my trees will sparkle. My lanai screen will seem more black and clear. My car has gotten a free carwash. Everything green is standing at attention.
As longs as the rain continues the dogs will not be barking. The motorcycles will not be howling, and I won’t hear the cursing or jubilation of the golfers. The phone won’t ring because I’ve turned it off. The radio won’t be educating me because I actually prefer the sound of rain to NPR, and NPR is the background music of my life.
Perhaps I’m rain-deprived, but even when I was not living in Sunny Florida I loved the rain. Winter rain, summer rain, fall rain (my favorite), and of course the triumphant spring rain, all make me happy. I can go days and days in rainy weather, and when others begin to complain, I will simply smile and hope for more.
There’s an electricity in the air, and the sky has that ominous look about it. I won’t check the Doppler Radar because I don’t want the disappointment of there not being a storm on the way. I like the anticipation as much as the light show. We have the most glorious thunderstorms here. They sometimes appear choreographed.
So there it is. You know my secret. My ancestry is from Ireland, and I believe I was a rain nymph in a former life. I hope it rains for a month.