“I like rain,” one member said, “But this is a lot of rain.” No “but”s for me. I like rain though I worry about beloved people driving through it and the who might slip and who might slip in a wet parking lot or on one of those blasted handicap-place-making curbs. I like the quieter days, the sound of the rain, even the way that it reflected in the streets and yet it has felt as my fellow members said as if it were just a little bit too much of a good thing. Today is I was driving to Rossmoor to meet someone for lunch, I realize that it was sleeting and I thought to myself, “Hmmm, this might be a precipitation too far” and yet even then I was invigorated by the bouncing orbs of ice.
Since the drought, rain has been an occasional luxury. These last weeks are more old school, really giving us that introspection and inward-space. I literally found myself chasing rainbows this week—one which was the most vivid rainbow I had ever seen and another which settled to form a solid color-hued horizon. For me who have never, seen the sight of such significant snow on the top of Mount Diablo in such abundance ever before; who was able to read to wear some very flashy boots on a couple of the rainiest days; and who finally bought those long-coveted chain gutters, the rain has brought much to celebrate.
The rain gives us quieter and more introspective time when we can hear more clearly the rhythms of our own hearts. We can celebrate with the redwood trees who are appreciating this change from the parsimonious rain patterns a climate change. The world will keep on fussing and arguing, creating uproars and outrage, perhaps we can find some solace in watching the downward journey of single raindrop down the landscape of our windshield or the glisten of the collected drops on the daffodil. This rain will pass –let us savor it today.