It’s been raining…
Our lawn is a soggy muddy lake that squelches up around your feet and threatens to suck your shoes off. The usually dry little ditch in the back yard is a steady stream, and, after particularly hard thunderstorms, washes over our little wooden bridge. You can stand out side sometimes and be drenched to the skin in a matter of seconds (which is pretty cool, actually).
I don’t mind it, after all I am no stranger to rain. I lived in Oregon for close to twenty years and sometimes we had weeks of never ending rain, whether it was a light drizzle or a heavier rainfall. But, while I tolerated the rain before, out here I love it. It is a warmer rain, with big fat juicy drops that splat as they hit your skin. It just begs to be danced in. And it’s frequently accompanied by thunder and lightening – I love thunder and lightening!
As I watch the rain fall outside, I am reminded of a *post I wrote about five years ago, about how much I missed the thunderstorms I was accustomed to as a child. I never dreamt then that I would be a mere five hours away from my childhood home, enjoying the thunderstorms again and being the one telling my kids to hurry inside “before they got fried.” It’s pretty cool, actually, and I know I am where I’m supposed to be. I think, once all the kids get home from school, we’ll have to have a rain dance!
*From Thunderstorm written in January 2006:
A burst of thunder announces the rain before it even arrives and lightning splits open the sky. With a squeal of delight I dash outside to our front porch. Rain falls to the earth in sheets. Darting into the rain I fling my arms wide spinning in giddy circles. I turn my face to the rain and let the raindrops splash against my tongue.
“Hurry back up here to the porch before you get fried!” mother playfully calls at the second roll of thunder and strike of lightning. I settle myself into my favorite spot to watch the show, under the old table on the porch. As the rain pounds the earth incessantly, the intoxicating scent of damp earth washes over me. I enjoy nature’s fireworks accompanied by astounding sound effects.
Too soon it ends and steals away as quickly is it came; torrents fading into drips. The sun forces its way through the clouds and the only remnants of the storm to be found are giant puddles in the fields. We bound through the fields from puddle to puddle. They become wading pools as we splash and play in the summer sun the water lapping at our waists. Too soon the life is sucked out of them and we wait, anxious for our next thunderstorm romp.