IT'S RAINING! IT'S POURING!

IT'S RAINING! IT'S POURING!  ☂

                                                                                                KENNETH E. HALL     AUGUST 29, 2018         HOUSTON

It's RAINING!  It's POURING!  
☂
I love rain, and always have. 

It cleans the air, waters the plants and grass, and it keeps the wildlife alive and thriving.

Its sound soothes the mind and give peace to the soul.

There is a rumble of thunder in the distance, that adds to the roar of the falling water is it hits the pavement and rocks below.

It is a symphony of sound, playing for those who have an ear to listen. In its rhythmic patter, I hear guitars softly play, and children singing: 

♫"It's raining, it's pouring,

The old man is snoring,

Bumped his head and he went to bed,

And he couldn't get up in the morning...

Rain, rain - go away;

Come again some other day!"

The calendar says it should be the hottest day of summer, so the cooling midday waters are all the more welcome. 

Today is that "other day," the day when the rains came.

The sky flickers with lightning, and the thunder replies quickly. It's a good day to be inside, sitting down with the windows open - to catch the mighty last sounds of a long summer that came 
— and is nearly gone.

        ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂  ☂

Today's rainstorm reminds me of a day just like this one long, long ago, when I was just a lad of ten. The sky turned black and I enjoyed the cool wind that usually proceeds a summer rain. I refreshed myself in its gusts while swaying high atop my pear tree at my grandparents' I was glad to, for once, be out of the harsh, midsummer solar glare and the sweltering humid heat that goes with it.

Not content with the subtle suggestion made by the thunder and lightning that it was time for me to go indoors, I chose instead to remain high up in the branches, lone on my lofty perch, far away from everyone and everything but Nature. 

Then the inevitable rain droplets started to fall, one-by-one at first, but soon more followed, and I thought then that my best course of action was to continue to enjoy Nature, but from a somewhat dryer location! 

As I scrambled down from atop the pear tree, the rain intensified, and I ran toward the house fast, hoping to reach the back door, where at least there was an overhang... But I only made it as far as the old back shed, whose wide-open covered area beckoned as a port in a very real storm. 

Then the sky seemed to open up, and I decided to ride out the thunder shower under that protecting roof.

Up to now, I saw a storm as something terrifying - something to be feared - some primeval instinct told me to flee. But this particular day was different. I looked at the shower in a whole new light.

On that day I became aware of a hundred things that I never noticed before: the little subtleties of a mid-afternoon summer storm — and for the first time in my life, I REALLY LISTENED to the rain. 

Noticing the little streams of water that was running off of the shed's roof and cascading to the concrete last step below, I put pots, jars, and cans underneath to catch the water - only to see those little vessels quickly filled. The water plopped and dripped and seemed to dance in them, and I took great delight in all that was happening.

No radio did blare, no TV set did shout and scream with violence. There was only this natural phenomenon we call RAIN to experience, and I did so fully. 

I didn't notice it at first - but the roar of rainwater on the roof began changed into a steady drumming, and that, too, slackened to a slight pitter-patter. 

Soon enough, the last drops were falling. It was time to pick up the water-filled vessels and empty them, and since no more water now fell, to go inside. 

But something happened that warm summer day,  something I would remember the rest of my life: I got an appreciation for a summer shower.

It was the first day I really listened to the rain.

☂