And yet rain is also the blissful feeling of being warm and dry inside. It’s an invitation to get cozy with a cup of tea and a good book, a book that is somehow even better when read to the sound of drops drumming on the roof.
Rain is small boys in fireman slickers and boots. It’s a chance to marvel at the fact that puddles and boys seem to have a magnetic attraction to each other. It’s learning that — boots notwithstanding — those boys will get their jeans soaked, and that a change of clothes is a small price to pay for a half-hour’s joyful slosh through the sidewalk gutters.
Rain is the promise of color. It turns the hills of drought-stricken California from an eerie moonscape gray-brown into a beautifully vivid green. It makes the commute look like a drive through England, inviting memories of long-ago travels and dreams of future itineraries.
Rain is hope for the future. It waters the thirsty crops in the Central Valley and the flowers in my front-yard beds. It makes California water experts breathe a little more easily.
Most of all, rain is a teacher. It reminds us that there are many things in nature that we can’t control. It tells us to slow down and scale back our to-do lists while inviting us to channel the puddle-jumping spirit of childhood. It teaches us patience, and gratitude. And I’m very, very glad it’s here.
What do you love about the rain?