Rain, the sublime

It’s raining here in rural Louisiana. It rained all night and is still raining now at 7:50am. It often rains hard and long in this part of the world. I’ve spent many hours watching and listening to the hard rain as it comes down. The thunder here in Louisiana is monumental, too, sending animals scurrying under the bed or looking about with worried looks. I’ve never heard louder thunder, anywhere. It feels like someone is ripping open the sky.

I love the sound of rain, the steady rhythm of it, the sweetness of its consistency. I’m not alone. Rain cleans. It purifies. It’s water from the sky, and every living creature needs it to grow and thrive. It’s a mystery. Rain is a gift. It’s often prayed for. Conjured for. Yes, there are violent rains. There are rains of all types, including incessant and destructive rains. But basic rain is a beauty, a cause for optimism. For gratitude.

Rain, our front yard