This morning I sat on my porch repotting flowers and listening to the pitter-patter of a soft rain. It was mostly quiet, with the exception of some cars driving by and a few bird calls. Blue jays remind me of spending time at my grandmother's, who had an amazing yard that attracted all sorts of birds. They continue to lighten my heart whenever I hear them.
Isn't rain an amazing thing? Just the sound is cleansing to the soul. The scent refreshes me, and the feel of the drops falling on my skin washes away any worries I have for a moment. It is a gift to the earth, soaking into the ground and renewing the plants after wilting summer afternoons. It can be powerful or gentle, angry or calm, cold or warm. Sometimes I feel the rain responding to my own experience, other times it lifts me up out of myself and into the greater experience around me. As much as I love the sun, I also love the rain.
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