On Rain and Thunderstorms
I’ve always liked the rain. I’m not sure why.
Right now there’s quite the light and sound show going on as we get the first real downpour of the year. Except for some snow earlier this winter, we haven’t had a lot of weather come our way lately. Spring around here often brings more rain and more cloudy days, which is to be expected. “April showers bring May flowers,” as the saying goes. But this downpour feels like something wicked that comes in the burning dog days of summer when you know it’s going to cool things off only a bit and what’ll be left is the sticky, swampy humidity of Washington DC in summer.
I think I like rain because, at least in my mind, it would be the only thing that could give relief to my allergies (at least until the modern pharmaceutical industry came around) but I’m really not sure. It’s definitely fun to go play in the rain, but I certainly would do it around here, what with the giant high-voltage electrical tower (read: lightning rod) about 30 yards from my home. I seem to remember playing in the rain as a kid. At least I like to think I did. I remember many things from my childhood, but that’s not one of them.
I do recall one day, it must have been in the first grade, and it was time to go home and there was a big storm headed our way. It wasn’t a hurricane, that’s for sure, even though they were common in south Louisiana growing up. But it was not your run-of-the mill rain-shower, either. It must have been three in the afternoon, but the sky was dark like it is after sunset. And the rain was coming down hard. I remember the covered walkways we had between buildings. The water would pool up in certain places under those walkways, so it was either get your feet wet or get your head soaked. I must have run through that to get to the bus, but I don’t remember that. I have this image of the dark skies and the pouring rain and the puddle of water where the concrete was not quite level.
One of the things I miss most about rain is the lack of certain sounds when living in a condo. There are two stories above me and I no longer get to hear the rain on the roof, a calming, comforting sound if ever there was one. I have to content myself with the pluck-pluck-pluck of the water dripping on the downspout outside the window and the sound of the rain on gardens and sidewalk, cars and concrete.
Still, though, there’s nothing like a good thunderstorm. If this keeps up any longer, they’ll be calling for flood warnings down by the river tomorrow morning.
Another huge flash-boom. The storm sounds like it’s right on top of us, but there are still echos of thunder a ways off. I hope this lasts all night… I’ll sleep like a baby if it does.