"Let the rain beat upon your head
with liquid drops ... I love the rain."
Langston Hughes
In the winter when the rain is cold and the sun is shinning elsewhere, I feel chilled to the bone. The sky with thick gray blankets stifle my visions of free floating in the sky. The heaviness in the atmosphere presses upon my head. I have not always disliked rain.
I used to walk in the rain with my high school friend, laughing hysterically as we devoured ice cream cones. On a screened in porch protected from the rain, I watched my little ones play as time enveloped us in love. The porch swing stacked with pillows and a blanket comforted me as I watched tears falling from the sky. Dancing in the rain with my grandchild splashed the blues away.
Rain is a shape shifter, sometimes being a gentle sprinkle in the spring or a thunderous high wind rage. It can nourish or debilitate. It can form a gentle flow or expand outside of boundaries. It can promote growth or death. Rain in the winter imprisons me inside, waiting for the sun to return to the sky.
