There's Something About Rain

I'm not really sure what it is, but I really enjoy the rain. I love what it does. I love the sound of it. I have fond memories of growing up in Gresham, on a Saturday afternoon, with the only light in the house coming from the open blinds, the windows 1/4 of the way open, no tv, no radio, my mom usually on the couch reading a book, me bored going through some of our old encyclopedias, laying on the bed, listening to the rain fall outside. Hearing the pulses of heavy to sprinkles to just regular rain. The smell that comes through the house is so "clean." It's like, the rainy breeze that would draft through the house would take out all of the aromas in the house and replace them with the smell of wet pine trees, yesterdays cut grass, and the unaturally clean smell of rain. Ocean breeze rain. It doesn't get any cleaner than that, does it? About the only thing that can trump that is to hear it at night while falling asleep. Each time, I am always reminded of Poe's citation of Longfellow's "Waif." I'm not going to spoil this post with poems from Poe and Longfellow, but the first line is brilliant;

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an Eagle in his flight.

Anyway, it rained all day yesterday. It's been raining today. I remember when we lived in Oceanside, and on our way to Jim and Sue's, you could always tell when it rained... You could see Big Bear from our house. That's usually not so odd, in most other parts of the country, but it was odd in Southern California, and on a clear, day after rain day, you could see Catalina (barely.)

On our way to the bus stop yesterday, Hayden and Maisy said, "Dad, why can't we just drive to the bus stop? It's too cold and it's raining." Seems reasonable doesn't it? However, we live 500 feet from the bus stop. We walked, got a "little" wet, not too bad, and we all survived. Mason, each and every time we come to a "puddle" he has to stomp in it. It's pretty cute, and you know what? I don't care. Shoes dry, and sometimes you just need to stomp in the puddles, get wet, get cold, laugh a little, giggle a lot, and when you get home... curl up with a blanket, hot cocoa, and your favorite stuffed lion and watch some looney tunes. Kids... what a life.

Now, that's a memory that I want.