Rain

       There's few things I love more than rain. Actually, there's a lot. But rain is up there on my list. The start of a storm has always fascinated me. Especially  can feel it in the air the entire day. The wind is whipping, and big thunderheads are looming on the horizon. The smell before a storm is a scent I adore. The air suddenly becomes moist with promise, and all I can think of is rain rain rain rain. 

       I love storms. I sleep best on the nights when thunder lulls me to sleep, and lighting crackles in the distance. The giant raindrops splashing down on the tin roof of my house seem like a lullaby. 

       I love standing outside in the rain, and lifting my face up so the drops blanket my cheeks. At night when you stand in the rain, there's something magical there. There's some space you enter, where  everything becomes okay. Where you can let go, and not feel as if your holding on the a sinking log.

     Being angry in the rain washes you clean. When you run out in hot fury, only to find that it's raining outside, I think the rain washes away that pain. It stops some of that hurt. It lets you feel okay again, like the world isn't ending, and you're not alone.

     This may seem creepy, but I love fog. Fog and rain are the perfect combination for a girl from Sewanee. It takes me back to those days of my childhood, when I would dance along the slippery rocks, and marvel at the clouds closing in around me. I felt like they were hugging me. Loving me.

      I have talked to the rain. I have told it everything I hide. Everything nobody understands about me. I've told the sky my hopes and dreams. I've told it how I want to stand on Tower Bridge in London at night in the rain and fog, and let the cool air wash over me. How I want to walk through the London snow at night, with nobody around, lost in my own thoughts.