The Rain

I love rain. I don’t know if it comes from living on a farm, where rain is so important and usually the main topic of conversation with dad, especially on summer mornings, or whether it’s from the imprint that times of drought left on my impressionable young mind. For instance, the summer of 2002, I was preparing to go to college, working out every day on the dusty roads (never to be prevented from doing so by the rain), and the topic of conversation everywhere was our area’s lack of rain. This conversation continued once I got to college and met my teammate Maggie, a ranching girl from Eastern Colorado who could commiserate with me on the subject. That drought almost did some ranchers in!

The best kinds of rains are many. Mid-morning summer showers that occur while birds sing and the sun barely glints through the clouds. Fast and somewhat violent showers that sweep through the fields on a hot, dusty day in July, refreshing everything in its wake, even if there was field work or mowing or baseball games to be done. Evening spring sprinklings that come through just after the barbeque is over and turn into a night full of magnificent thunderstorms, complete with lightning, wind, and booming thunder which keeps you semi-awake all night. Dreary fall drizzles that wet the landscape, making every autumn shade more vivid. And, during any season, I love the rains that come while I’m driving through a city at night, with the wipers running and the lights glowing through the water.

I love rain.