If you don't know how happy these raindrops on my window make me, then we've not been properly introduced. "Hello, my name is Cheryl, and I'm obsessed with rain." In manageable amounts, anyway. I'm no fan of the kind of storms that our family in New Orleans see in hurricane season. But with more and more droughts here in Southern California, I am exuberant to witness a regular ol' rain. How much do I love it? Check out this excerpt from my book, Love Earth Now.
“Struck dumb by the most extraordinary sight outside my kitchen window, I slump into the nearest chair, agape. My mind scrolls through the mental to-do list for today and finds nothing that can’t be shoved off until tomorrow. I give myself permission to sit here doing nothing but to witness this miracle, at least until someone in this household figures out that Mom has “nothing to do.”
After months of relentless, arid heat, the dearth has ended. It’s raining. This is no ordinary drizzle or even a shower. It is a veritable downpour, no single drop of water discernible from the multitude. The rain pummels the earth as if some angry god, hell-bent on punishing a perverse planet, hurls glass spears from his home on high.
I wonder that there is no protest, no attempt at defense. The earth and the trees and even the slender grasses stand stock-still, as if they, too, acknowledge the miracle, afraid to blink and find it was all a mirage.
Only the man-made artifices, the pavement, rooftops, and sidewalks, seem unimpressed, waving away this precious gift of water, one that means life or death to the living, without so much as a nod. Today’s downpour, after so many months of deprivation, is a feast that only someone who has fasted for days can appreciate. Although I sit indoors, my cracked, dry skin seems to plump, my mind washes clean of the scourge of nagging thoughts. The rain replenishes the very reservoir of my soul.”