Come again some other day

It's raining. 

It's raining hard. 

It's raining a lot. 

And it's been doing it in and out for most of the day. 

And yesterday. 

And the day previous to that. 

And I miss the sun.  And the warmth, and the energy it brings with it. 

I grew up in the high mountain west where winters are cold, spring is cold, summer is warm and mild, and fall is. . . actually, I don't remember how the fall is.  Warm days and chilly nights.  Freezing fingers from early morning marching band practice is really what I remember of the fall.  But before that, I lived in the low valley mountain west where winters are mild, spring is rainy, summer is dry and hot, and fall is . . . I've forgotten fall here too.  Going to school without a coat and nice warm recesses are what I remember.  But both places thrive on sunshine so when the rain would come, I welcomed it.

Rain was a respite from the day after day monotony of sun.  It was exciting or gentle.  It cleansed the air around us and brought much needed water for grass, gardens, and reservoirs.  I'd play in the rain, running as in a game of tag from tree to tree to take cover under their canopies from the water drops that were "it", and then finally, and deliciously, stand beneath the roof's water gutter and let the water pour upon my head.  Open my pants and let it fill my underwear.  If you'd ask me then, I'd have said I loved the rain.  Sun was an everyday thing - rain was magic. 

Now I'm in the midwest where this rain is the reason for the abundant green.  No one talks about a drought or xeriscape or devastatingly low reservoirs.  No one talks about it because it rains about every 3 days.  Or 3 days straight.

Now, if you were to ask me, I'd tell you I love the sunshine.  I love it because gray skies are becoming an everyday thing - sun is magic.

And my boys just came home from walking home in the rain 'cuz I'd have told you a little rain never hurt anybody but the reality is I lost track of time and it didn't even cross my mind to go and rescue their poor souls from the torrential downpour and thunder storm that is outside.  They've come into my bedroom soaked.   Soaked through coat and hat and shoes.  "Mom," they say,  "It's raining a lot."  "Yeah, we were afraid the lightening was going to get us because lightening hits trees and there are a lot of trees out there."  "And the gutters are rivers.  It's really crazy."  I smile at my boys.  "Guess today would have been a good day to have picked you up from school, aye?"  "Yeah.  You totally should have picked us up today."  I look at all my wet boys again.  They've lost their smiles and are looking at me pathetic and sternly.  I turn to Boybee.  He'd been so sad, almost to tears, this morning that there hadn't been enough water running down the gutters to float his little wooden boat.  "Well, I guess now would be a good time to float your boat?"  "No way!" he says.  "It's too wet out there!"  And now I laugh.  'Cuz I love them boys. 

I took Marie out.  We were tired of being inside and the rain was coming down in a drizzle.  And it wasn't as cold as it had looked from inside.  And it still smelled fresh.  And Marie was enticed by the puddles and babbled happily.  And I was grateful for the rain, and I look forward to the sun.