Rain is in my blood. I grew up in the Pacific Northwest and the sound of rain on the roof is still one of the most soothing sounds that I know. It’s raining as I write these words. Not a soft drizzle but a steady pounding that has people covering their heads and dashing for cover. I’m watching them now, sitting here in the dry comfort of the coffee shop I frequent on Saturdays. Sheets of water are pouring down the entrance driveway that is sloped toward the building. I see the flashing lights of a firetruck as he whizzes by, sirens wailing. Probably someone was careless with the rain and got in an accident.
Now the steady pounding has turned to an even fiercer downpour, as if the heavens turned inside out and emptied themselves of all their fluid at once. The rain is good. We’ve been experiencing a drought here in central Texas and it will take much rain to fill up the dry riverbeds and saturate the dehydrated earth.
Rain connects me to many things.
Rain means cozy. It means a warm blanket and a familiar book. Rain means romance and the scent of settled dust. It means so many things that I adore. Trees and flowers, green grass and gurgling brooks. It means life.
Rain means love is being poured down — each little drop, created by love, sent with love. How many drops of love have come down in the last hour? Millions of love notes for the one who has eyes to see.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I read that approximately 750 trillion raindrops fall every second on our planet. It’s rather staggering to imagine.
Rain sets a good tone for writing, for napping, and for making love. I’ve also found it to be very romantic to skate under rain drumming on a tin roof.
One of my favorite memories was taking my kids to school in the pouring rain. It brought out the playfulness in everyone and there was lots of laughter and joyful shouting. I crave more moments like that, and I wonder what magic the rain holds to bring out the best in us.
Rain is mesmerizing. At least for me. It makes me want to hug someone. It makes me want to put on my coziest sweat pants and my wool socks. It makes me want to dance and bake cookies. It woos me like a love song and soothes me like a lullaby.
Rain has a dozen moods. Maybe that’s partly why I like him so much. Playful. Harsh. Soothing. Romantic. Tender. Strong.
We named one of our sons Raine.
Sometimes we take rain for granted. Sometimes we are irritated by it. Sometimes we hole up in our home and forget about it altogether. And we are free to do all of these things.
But as for me, I hope to instill in my children an enchantment with the rain. I hope by my delight and glee, a small fire of wonder is lit in their own hearts every time those wet love notes fall.