Here Comes the Rain, Again



So, this may sound odd, but I spent a lot of today waiting for rain.

The weather guys have been saying for a few days that we’d get heavy rain today, rain that would really soak the ground following the light showers that we’ve gotten several evenings this week. I’ve been reveling in sleeping with the windows open, snuggled under blankets and comforters against the cool breezes, and waking up to the gentle sound of rain on my wisteria.

But there was no rain as I drove into work alongside Spout Run and the Potomac River, noting how dandelions have overtaken the purple deadnettle and how the bleached skeletons of sycamore trees have leafed out into that color of light Spring green that really can’t be described.

There was no rain when I walked to Rasika for lunch.

When I started back to my office, it was dark and windy, but I made it back without having to pull out my umbrella or call Uber.

When I drove home from work, the sky was dark and the radio was full of tornado watches, but there was no rain. I sat out on my porch for hours, feeling the ground and the roots longing for the rain the way one longs for a lover’s touch, or for a drink of cold water on a very hot day, or for a hot bath when your muscles are sore.

Finally, a bit after 6:30, there was a crack of thunder and the rain began. I went out to sit in it — my first time this year.

All late Autumn and all Winter, when it rains, or sleets, or snows, I can only participate in it as the bit of my landbase that stays warm inside, mug of tea in hand, watching out the window. And I know that my landbase needs that, as much as it needs the water level below the Earth filling up, as much as it needs the spaces between the tiny pebbles and the huge tree roots that provide air pockets even in the rain, as much as it needs the squirrels who go out in any weather.

But once it warms up, in late Spring, I can go sit outside and be rained upon, just like my magnolias, my altar rock, my ferns, and my Japanese Temple pines. I can anticipate the rain just as my iris and arisaemas do. I love that.

May it be so for you.

Picture found here.

3 responses to “Here Comes the Rain, Again

  1. I love sitting on my turtle bench on my covered porch feeling the wind and hearing the rain. It makes me feel cleansed from the inside out.

  2. We have rain here on the Highveld at a time of year when it’s supposed to be months of bone-dry weather. We’re famous for it.
    So it’s with a sense of bewilderment that the dogs snuggled up to the heater last night, as it rained and thundered and lightning’d. This morning it’s still bucketing down. The landbase, too, seems a bit puzzled.
    “Humans, what’ve you done now?:

    Terri in Joburg

  3. I love that as well.

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