I can honestly say that I don't especially love rain. I love what it does for our planet - for the plants, animals, air quality etc. But I could easily live in a place where it rains very, very seldom. Like Los Angeles. I actually lived there for eights years and I never missed a thunderstorm. Granted, it could be that I grew up in southeast Texas, which is in close relation to a swamp, where the raindrops are almost the size of bullfrogs. Seriously, I am not kidding. Hurricanes there are a normal, yearly occurrence and I think that after living there for twenty-one years I was ready to dry out in the desert.
I guess I should clarify a bit and say that it isn't so much the rain itself but being out in the rain. However, there are those few occasions when I do enjoy the rain. Take a sudden spring shower, for instance. The clouds swell up, seemingly unexpected, and then the wind comes, whirls whatever stray leaves happen to be lying around up into the air, the sky darkens and then a flash storm occurs. And it leaves almost as suddenly as it comes. The miracle however is in the aftermath. The air smells fresh, the sky is a deeper shade of blue, the birds fly faster. It's like the world gets a bath. Like God took us through the quick, five-minute, lunch-time, car wash. I love those moments after the rain. The sweet, earthy smell that permeates the air and the crisp brightness that seems to define everything around me. It's like the calm after the storm.
They say that spring showers bring May flowers but here we are and it is almost April. I am hoping the flowers come sooner than May and I am also hoping for more spring showers. Next time I will be armed with my umbrella.