On Rain

 It wasn't Prince's Purple Rain. It wasn't Forest Gump's "little bitty stingin' rain." It wasn't even the kind of rain that the Temptations were wishing for. This was Andy Dufresne's rain when he gets out of Shawshank. It was Jim and Pam's rain from the Office. This was Van Morrison's rain from And it Stoned me. 

Van Morrison, And it Stoned me

Ever since I was a kid, rain almost brought along a feeling of an otherworldly cleansing when the clouds opened and rain drops started falling. That smell of summer after a rain shower, where the sunshine is brighter and the earth smells alive is one of the most distinctive smells that I can remember, and it takes me back to my childhood every time I experience it. Last week I was having one of those "blah" days. It was supremely unmemorable in every aspect, until I got caught in a rain shower that took me back to being 12 years old again, waiting for the rain to stop so my friends and I could go back to enjoying a glorious summer day. At that moment, I had a moment of supreme clarity that just shook me, and Van Morrison popped into my head. 

That rain washed away all of the things that lead into a forgettable, subpar kind of day. I was irritated and didn't know why, I had a hard time really enjoying any aspect of what was turning into a pretty mundane Wednesday. Until the rain started falling down. For whatever reason, that rain acted as a kind of reset button for me. The rain stopped, the sun came out, and I noticed how vibrant the leaves are this year. That earthy smell rose up from the woods, and I remembered the cool recipe I wanted to try for dinner that evening. A small little rainbow popped up, and I was thankful of the fact that I am healthy, have a job, and am more blessed than most, so maybe I should appreciate my life a little more often. 

Like I said, it was a Van Morrison kind of rain. Sometimes a little rain is exactly the thing to put things back into perspective. 

Maybe you'll get caught in that kind of rain soon.

Yours, RA