I love rain. I love rainy days and rainy nights. I don't mind if we have many rainy days in a row. It's not that I don't like sunshine, I do. Rainy days give me a physical release...they seem to purge my soul. If we are in a drought I feel it to my bones...bone dry! I'm not sure if it is because I grew up in a humid climate where afternoon summer rains are common. I often wonder if people in dry arrid areas miss rainy weather.
Memories of rain are filled with comfort for me. Lying on my bed summer afternoons, reading while the rain is pattering outside my window. Looking up from my book and watching the rivulets of water run down the panes...wondering which rivulet will win the race. I've run in the rain, sailed in the rain gone swimming in the rain. Water is my friend.
Cool autumn days at the farm in Georgia, with the rain pinging on my Gramma Bet's tin roof. The weather was crisp enough for a fire, but not so cold it wasn't fun to slip into a raincoat and wander outside. I loved the look of the rain clouds lying low over her pine trees. Seeing the Georgia red clay mixed with rainwater running down into the ditches on the side of the road. The air was scented with pine and rain...how lovely.
I think my favorite memory of all with rain was the early morning I locked myself out of my house. I don't remember how it happened, just that I was in my nightie and dashed to my Grams' house, one house over from mine. I knocked on her door and she opened it with a look of astonishment, I must have looked like a drowned rat. Quickly she hustled me back to her bedroom where she handed me one of her dry nightgowns and a towel. After I was dry she tucked me into her bed under her down comforter. It was so nice to be fussed over like I was a child again.
Rain, water, life. Happy times.