Rain Musings

Many people don't understand why I like the rain. A buddy of mine absolutely hates the rain. She hates the dreary days, the wet, the inaction of waiting for it to go away so she can go outside and get things done.

But the scent of the rain, the feel of it tapping on my skin, the cool wetness of it and the sound - especially the sound. I love to play in the rain. I love to listen to it pound on the roof. I love to watch it skate across the windows and form puddles. I love to walk out into it and turn my face up to it so that it dances across my cheeks. I love to smell it on the wind before it comes and after it goes...

And I find myself writing while I listen to the comforting sound. Rain is my muse, I've often said.

Honestly, I don't even understand why I love rain. But for some reason I find peace in it, even in the darkest, scariest thunderstorm. The rain itself is cleansing, washing away the dirt and grime of life. It is a herald of the brighter days to come.

The sun always shines the brightest after a hard rain, after all.

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