On the West Coast where I live, everyone is partially amphibious.
It’s been exceptional warm this year, week long heat waves in June with below average precipitation.
Dried out, especially between my webbed toes, how I’ve missed the rain.
In these humid days of summer, it’s exhilarating to be caught in an unexpected downpour, soaking everything. The fragrant freshen air revives plants and people alike. It is time to inhale the earthly smell of nature.
For, as Dave Barry says, a rainstorm will travel thousands of miles against prevailing winds just for the opportunity to rain upon a tent.
In the cool days of winter, decorative boots and festive umbrellas are everyone’s fashion statement, protecting us from the crackling rain.
In the lengthening sunshine days of spring, the first water-spiked breezes rejuvenates the plentiful plant life hidden beneath our feet.
Bundling up, we head to outdoor picnics, eaten under covered tables, to inhale the freshened air.
Raindrops are such funny things.They haven’t feet or haven’t wings. Yet they sail through the air, With the greatest of ease, And dance on the street, Wherever they please. – Anon.
The exuberant splashing dancing of Gene Kelly in Singing in the Rain is unforgettable, conveying intense joy in the smell and sounds of splashing rain.
I have never literally danced in the rain. But I’ve contentedly inhaled rain through a slightly cracked open window in my parked car, as a thunderstorm flooded the road and my windshield with obscuring rain. Surrounded by the cascading water, I felt sheltered as if secure beneath a calming miniature rock waterfall sculpture that graces living room tables.
Let the rain kiss you.
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops.
Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk.
The rain makes running pools in the gutter.
The rain plays a little sleep-song on our roof at night –
And I love the rain.
– Langston Hughes (1902-1967)