Wednesday, June 22, 2011
I can stand the rain
I walked my dog through the foggy meadow today as the softest rain I have ever felt fell on our heads and rolled off. I have missed soft rain.
While everyone curses the water that falls from this swollen, bruised, overwrought sky, I have been rejoicing in all things rainy and wet. I have missed the rain.
It rained in France, sure, but never for long. I cannot remember a single rainy day. Rainy mornings, sure. An afternoon rain shower, maybe. But never did I spend a fully-committed, all-day, or all night, under the clinging roof of a sagging, leaky gray sky. I have missed rainy days.
My daughters have learned to love rain, like me. While everyone looks to the sky and frowns, grimaces, and complains, they have learned the benefits of smiling at the rain. They notice how colorful the world looks when it's wet. Leaves are greener, dirt is richer brown, rocks go from drab and unremarkable to strikingly beautiful. And those orange effs are psychedelic.
And the inside world changes too. Warmer. More inviting. Shelter. Our roof is a drum, the skylights are cymbals.
And no one expects you to go outside when it's raining. No one calls you on the phone midday, then says, "What are you doing inside on a day like this?" when you say "Hello."
"Oh I love days like this when it's so dark and wet outside and so cozy inside," Esther said just now after an entire, boring afternoon spent inside.
"So do I," I said. "So do I."
I love the rain.
More words have fallen out of my mouth over at Momformation.