Rain

I went back to Chicago over the Labor Day weekend to visit my sister. She recently moved there with her boyfriend, and they were kind enough to host me for my visit. On my first night with them, there was a terrific rainstorm. I was thrilled. One of the things I've missed the most since moving to LA is rain. We don't get much here. We definitely never get the kind of thunderstorms that the midwest does. This wasn't a thunderstorm, but the rain was pouring down loud enough to hear through the open living room window. I couldn't wait to crawl into the sofabed and fall asleep to the sound. I hadn't realized that this meant I'd also be treated to the crazy wind! This managed to knock around who knows what in their old building and did so every time I was about to drift off. Anyway, I did eventually fall asleep. And the moments when I could hear the rain pattering through the window made the other noises pale in comparison. When I got back, I found the following piece I'd written some time ago on rain. Let me know your thoughts if you're so inclined! 

I adore the rain. All kinds really. But I believe there are three major types. There's the gentle rain that comes softly like a mist. It is refreshing and calming. I imagine the foggy dampness falling across the rolling Irish countryside. It makes me want to lie down and close my eyes, letting it envelope me completely until it is all I know. 
There is the rain that comes after weeks of prayers from farmers and gardeners. It comes after a long dry spell and is desperately needed. Everything is drenched in a downpour until all living things experience a renewal. I most think of this rain during the hot, humid summers in the Midwest. Puddles appear everywhere, encouraging play. 
Then there is the storm. Warning bells signal its approach, followed by telling green-grey skies and strong winds. It has a fierceness behind it and it is my favorite. The storm demands attention, urging me to leave my windows open. I stay awake waiting for the next bolt of lightning, the next crack of thunder. The storm is a conversation I feel I understand. It gets everything out in the open, unavoidable, allowing for a cleansing release. Afterwards, I feel better than I have in weeks, no matter what has been on my mind. The storm shouts and crackles when I cannot. Then it slowly calms itself.

I feel as though I must have stepped away before finishing this, so I'll try to tie it up here. I wonder if we don't go through periods in our lives that can be categorized in the above types of rain. Sometimes life mists over us, gentle in its delivery of information or experiences. Other times, it seems as though we've waited an eternity for life to give us what we've been craving and then finally it delivers in a downpour. Sometimes, maybe we didn't even realize how much we needed the downpour until it arrived. Finally, sometimes life hits us with thunder and strong winds, blowing our life out of control and seeming to make a mess of our carefully arranged plans. But when the storm calms, we see with refreshed eyes that the mess was necessary. It allowed us to see something we had missed or had ignored. I believe a storm may be happening in my life right now. It's a bit frightening, but I am holding onto faith and waiting to be refreshed. 

If you have other types of rain I've overlooked, I'd love so much to have you mention them in the comments. Thanks for reading!