I’ve Seen Fire, and I’ve Seen Rain
What is about rain that can bring on a gully-washer of thoughts and emotions? Is it the subliminal pull of watching the rain fall, knowing it came from the sky, and would end its journey at the earth? Not unlike the human thought process, which has thoughts descending from the brain to the heart or soul.
I do some of my best thinking and writing when in my multi-windowed studio, ensconced in my dry insular writer’s world, while only feet away, rain creates a visual and audible sensation that soothes me.
Things that comfort us are often elusive. When discovered as sources of succor, whether emotional or physical, we tend to cradle them like diamonds. And we should. Areas of life that provide respite, a safe haven, are rare and should be prized and coveted.
The rain does that for me.
I also love the idea, and the reality, of a sun splashed beach in Aruba with a canopy, deck chair, cold beer, Jimmy Buffett serenading, and a trusted lover seated beside me.
I find a sense of reprieve from the flotsam and jetsam of life in both venues, even though they are diametrically opposed, weather-wise.
Both offer inspiration. The sun may bring out the instinct to howl and dive into the sea, and the rain may provide a visual and audible auditorium that breeds thought and reflection. My life needs healthy doses of both. I have had that sporadically in my 52 years. My goal is to have it all the time.