For those of you who are sure that I’ve written too much about rain already (not to mention rain’s sinister cousin “fog”), prepare yourself. Here comes another one.
It has been raining for days and days and days. We haven’t had thunderstorms recently, just consistent, considerable rain. Even when it stops raining for a brief minute, water still drips from the sky (some people would say “drizzle” but that may or may not be a dirty word here, so we’ll just leave that there, ok?), almost taunting us, reminding us that any time now it will start pouring again.
And so it pours again as I write this, buckets of precious water. And in this latest deluge, I’ve realized something more that we can all love about the rain.
You see, everybody says they love the sound of the rain, but why? I believe that the white noise it provides allows us to escape the hustle and bustle of our lives. It drowns out the sirens and the traffic. It ushers people indoors, finding them captive and waiting. It encourages us to turn off the TV and just stare blankly for awhile - out a door or a window or just into space. It is as if the rain is nature’s way of reminding us that there is peace out there for those willing to stop long enough to find it.
If we will only stop long enough to find it...