A Raining Grace

AS A CHILD, I loved the rain. I have always loved the feel of splattering raindrops on my face and bare legs. I would often run wildly through the puddles, jumping forcefully, allowing the rain to pour over my head and into my eyes... and opening my mouth to taste the rain.

This childlike enjoyment of a refreshing, rinsing rain has remained with me in my adulthood. Dashing outside, face up to the pouring open skies is not unlike delving into a waterfall’s current. The overwhelming sensation of water flooding over is both mystical and magically superb, all at once cleansing and renewing.

The sight of swimsuit-clad kiddies shrieking in glee, jumping in and out of the sprinkler's range on a hot summer's day brings back fond memories of precious and precocious childhood. I still love frolicking in the rain.... the sloshing sound when I ‘accidentally’ step into a puddle and the delicious feeling of squishy shoes and happy toes afterwards.

I love the furious swish-swoosh and flip-flop of windshield wipers and the hiss of rubber tires on rainy streets.

I love the smell of wet grass and raincoats and shaggy coats of dogs... and the sensation of successive showers of soft splatters when the dog shakes and slags it all off.

I love the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops pelting and bouncing off the tightly stretched skin of the umbrella over my head when it’s raining cats and dogs... and the acute, thrilling awareness of my own precariousness: that I am but a mere membrane away from getting thoroughly soaked and drenched.

But more than anything else, I love rain for its power to make indoors seem snugger and safer. With a warm mug cupped between my palms, and looking out the window, rain makes home a refuge from everything outdoors that is un-home, unknown, unfathomable, unsafe...

It has been raining and raining over the past week. And yes, once again, there are signs of new life in the mudpond. Sprouting lettuce and budding water lilies. Busy bees a-buzzin' and butterflies a-flutterin'. And soon those wiggly tadpoles will turn into cute tiny froglets.

But I am reluctant to wander out.

The rain has been hiding much. Dragonflies are hovering and mating above the pond. They’ve been laying their eggs on the water plants. Soon the eggs will hatch into nymphs: tiny feared predators that can overpower the feisty little beady tadpoles and cut short their lives.

Just a-walkin in the rain.. getting soakin' wet...