#5 Rain

Rain is a miracle, one of my favorites. Presently, like the roses, it reminds me that it isn't yet freezing outside (a nice change from last Thursday when it actually snowed). The rain has always fascinated me, so today, I'd like to share some of my thoughts on rain that I wrote 7 years ago...

I love rain. I love the clouds and I love getting soaking wet while walking between classes. I love falling asleep to the sounds of a storm and the smell of rain in the valley. I believe that being raised in the desert has led me to love the rain so much, especially after considering my mom's account that as I child I treated rain much the same way as the wicked witch of the west might have. Now that I'm older, I would prefer to be outside when it starts to pour.

My favorite type of rain is a thunder storm. There's the lightning that illuminates the whole sky and thunder so loud it causes the house to rattle. Then there is the wind that tries it's hardest to prevent the raindrops from ever touching the ground. Lastly, the simple sound of the water slamming against the windows, the roof, the leaves on the tree. I think the display of natural power is incredible. It is pure strength, not man-made or manufactured in anyway, and impossible to prevent. Afterwords, the sky clears and the air is clean. The plants gently drip the water they have caught and glitter a fresh, bright green, unobstructed by dust and dirt that has built up. The sun breaks through the dispersing clouds and reflects of the wet grass causing it to shimmer like a green sea.

When most people think of a bad day, they relate it to a cold, gray, rainy day, much like the weather I am experiencing right now. I have a different outlook. When I think of a bad day, I think of a fire. First, there is the initial mild shock that lets you know today won't end quite as you hoped. Then the sense of displacement that occurs when you want to curl up in your bed and hide, but realize that you can't. Finally, after giving up the thought of hiding and wanting to disappear into your favorite book, that is when hopelessness starts to set in. You realize your favorite book is destroyed, along with your favorite stuffed animals, favorite outfit, favorite picture hanging on the wall. You feel like there is nothing you can do to save yourself. Then, someone comes up to you, and they give you a hug. Just a simple hug. You can close your eyes and hide from the world and let their arms protect you from the mental fire you fear will destroy you as efficiently as it destroyed everything else.

This is when the rain comes in. It puts out the fires and cools the still simmering coals. It cleans the air of the smoke and dust. It washes away the ash, and the dirt, and the tear stains running down your cheeks. The water nourishes the wounded plants and the clouds protect from the scorching sun. I can see why you might think it unusual for me to be so thankful for this cold, constant rain. But when your life burns down around you, there is nothing better than waking up to the soft rhythmic sound of raindrops on the window.