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I woke this morning around 3AM to a sound simultaneously soothing and unsettling. It took a second for my consciousness to catch up to my emotions. It was raining.  The positive feelings were mixed with the unsettled novelty of it, for it hasn’t rained in the night in many months.  The sensible part of the brain suggested I go back to sleep, but the emotional part wished to stay up to enjoy the sonorous solemnity.

It’s a pity I live in the desert, for rainy days provide me comfort and peace.  I think there is nothing more seraphic than the smell of petrichor and the drumming of raindrops on the rooftop.  Rainy days appeal to the introvert. They give one the permission to stay put and don’t go out. These are the days for hot cups of tea and good books, followed by the most blissful of events: a rainy day nap.  Even as I type this I feel a peaceful lull trying to lower my eyelids.

Rainy days needn’t be all indolence; there are always the ‘rainy projects’. These tasks are usually not strenuous, but mawkish or thoughtful, like organizing the photos files, or writing some letters, or tidying up a closet.

There is less noise on rainy days, so as not to interrupt the atmospheric concert of pitter-patter. TV and Youtube videos are verboten. If there is any music to be played it is something soft and pensive like Native American flutes.

The best rain is continuous and light, without much wind – perhaps just enough to stroke the wind chimes so they provides a low-grade ostinato to the rain chorus.  Meals on a rainy day are simple and hot, such as soup and a sandwich – grilled cheese preferably, for the warmth of rainy day food compliments the mild chill of the damp.

The reality is I am at my office, and my work-day begins soon. I will be indoors out of sight or sound of the weather, cut off from the rain.  Chances are the rain will stop and by day’s end the sky will be clear as crystal and we won’t have rain again until the summer.  But the memory of rain will have soaked into my heart if not my skin. Perhaps on a hot sunny day with too much work to do I can turn on the virtual rainy day that is now in my soul.

3/21/15 Update: I just learned of a lovely word:

chrysalism

n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.

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