Ever since I was little whenever it rained I grabbed my rain boots and ran outside. Even if for a minute I needed to be under the water...to feel it on my skin. I used to walk around my block and hum, blissfully happy to be alone on the street when everyone else ran away.
The world gets so incredibly quiet when it rains. A quiet that can only be equalled by slowly falling night snow that covers everything in a plush blanket of soundproof snowflakes. I love that quiet...when all you hear is the teardrops hitting the pavement and your thoughts. Perhaps that is the reason that some loathe rain. To them it's gloomy..too cold, too murky.
For me it has always been a welcomed relief...it is strong enough to wash away one's greatest flaws...nothing man builds can withstand it when it is at its full power....it saturates every thing exposed to it and makes it shine anew. And oh that post-rain smell...if only they could bottle that perfect crisp essence...
My favorite though will always be night rain...the one that rushes you off the city street into your warm apartment, urging you to light the fireplace, pour a glass of red and curl up next to him in complete happiness. The one that lulls to sleep and makes the bed seem like a haven never to be abandoned.
The one that smudges the world's edges a bit...and perhaps mine as well.
what's rain without a bit of trip-hop?? yeah, thought so
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