and the rain came down
A few weeks ago winter gracefully stepped aside and spring breezed in with all of her colors suddenly and vibrantly on display. We had a brief moment of warm and mellow sunshine which was quickly blotted out by the thick, oppressive cloud cover that my area of the world is known for. Although I enjoyed the chilly stillness of winter, when the rain came with spring I exhaled a breath that I hadn’t known I’d been holding. Rain is what I know. Rain is comforting and familiar. It means snuggling up under a quilt with a good book and a hot cup of peppermint tea. Rain gives me peace.
I remember one afternoon last spring; both of my children were down for their afternoon naps, and the storm that had been slowly rolling in all day finally burst overhead. Thunder boomed and hail fell in sheets so thick the street was a river within minutes. I wrapped myself up in a blanket and dashed outside, huddling beneath the overhang on our front porch. The sound of wind and water filled my ears and I closed my eyes, inhaling the fresh smell of sudden rain. My senses were consumed by the incredible force of it all, and I felt so completely safe. There I stood, mere inches from the freezing water, protected by my blanket and my solid home behind me.
I treasure that memory, because the security I felt was so rare for me. I’m frightened of so many things. My imagination creates the most horrific scenarios, and if I pay attention to them it seems like my family is in constant danger. Everywhere I go, every corner or alley or shadow I pass holds the possibility of evil hiding in wait. In those rare and precious moments when that fear is forgotten, or drowned out by the roar of a spring thunderstorm, I am flooded with such a blessed comfort and relief. I wish I could bottle up that feeling, the Absence of Fear, and carry it with me to hold beneath my nose like a smelling salt. Every whiff would remind me of the serenity of that stormy spring afternoon… the rain and hail pounding all around me, the cool wind prickling my cheeks, and the shelter of my home and my blanket all that I need to keep me safe.
I relish those moments in life during which I am connected powerfully to nature and, somehow, learn something about myself in that brief slip of time. Reading your entry today, made me remember a few of those memorable times…a particular burning sunset, an evening run through the rain in England…
Thanks…
Comment by Vikki — April 13, 2006 @ April 13, 2006 at 11:23 am
I get that way next to the ocean. For me, it’s forgetting my problems as I watch & hear and feel & smell the waves, something of much greater force than anything else I’m worrying about.
Comment by Redheadmomma — April 13, 2006 @ April 13, 2006 at 11:36 am
There is nothing better than watching a good storm roll in.
Comment by mama_tulip — April 13, 2006 @ April 13, 2006 at 11:38 am
Isn’t it funny. I am scared to death by storms. If it’s just rain I am okay but if it is thunder and lightening, I’m a mess if I am by myself. What is one’s securety is anothers undoing.
Comment by Mary — April 13, 2006 @ April 13, 2006 at 11:41 am
Your post made me sad for the thunderstorms I no longer get. I grew up in a place with dramatic shows of thunder, lightening and downpours of rain. The street outside my childhood home used to fill up and overflow the curbs so that you stand in ice cold running water up to your knees! Now, though a good storm comes through every once in a great while, for the most part I miss them every spring. Thanks for bringing back some fond memories.
Comment by Staci — April 13, 2006 @ April 13, 2006 at 12:02 pm
How incredibly snuggly is that description. Power, lady!
Comment by Heather — April 13, 2006 @ April 13, 2006 at 2:57 pm
I struggle when there is too much rain for days on end, but I always enjoy the first day or so. It’s like a permission slip to be cozy and do very little. To slow down and accept being housebound and all the relaxation that can bring.
Warm spring rain and fresh cut grass have to be among the best smells ever.
Comment by Karen — April 13, 2006 @ April 13, 2006 at 7:55 pm
I love the rain. I miss the rainy place.
Comment by Stephanie — April 14, 2006 @ April 14, 2006 at 6:40 am
I’m de-lurking to say how much I enjoy your blog.
Also, I loved this post. There’s nothing quite as comforting to me as being near people I care about, safe & sound, when a thunderstorm rolls in.
I see you’re reading Kingsolver’s Prodigal Summer. Are you enjoying it? I read it a couple of years ago & fell immediately in love with it!
Thanks again for a great blog.
Comment by Kelli — April 14, 2006 @ April 14, 2006 at 8:19 am
YOu are truly an amazing person Karli.
Comment by Queen Beth — April 14, 2006 @ April 14, 2006 at 5:24 pm
I get scared of thunderstorms…I am a wimp…your post made me want to sit in front of a fire, toast marshmellows and drink hot chocolate!
Comment by mrsmogul — April 16, 2006 @ April 16, 2006 at 2:11 am
Ah, the Absence of Fear. It is what I live for since becoming a mother. What no one tells you abotu getting older, is that you will now “get it”. You will now understand what life is about.
And with this realization of our mortality comes a constant fear. Once life becomes so precious to us, we hold our breath. For years.
I’m with you on this one. Nicely portrayed.
Comment by Lena — April 16, 2006 @ April 16, 2006 at 9:49 pm
I love rainstorms! I do the same thing - blanket on the porch to take it in. I worry a lot,too, but I read something that makes me feel better:
Our worst fears are not necessarily formed from our darkest thoughts. We live in a world where almost anything can happen. We know this and we also know that, if and when it does, there will probably not be much we can do about it. That makes sanguine philosophers of us all. It is probably also why our greatest anxieties revolve around more minor matters. We become so anxious about the things we could probably prevent that we mount vigils and psychologically patrol the boundaries of our lives. You worry now that you are not doing enough to keep a possible problem at bay yet what else can you do? Worry less! Your concerns are fueling a fire that might otherwise die through lack of attention.
Comment by Occidental Girl — April 17, 2006 @ April 17, 2006 at 9:31 am
Oh, I too LOVE storms… all kinds. I am lucky to live in an area where they are oh-so-abundant. And am the only person I know who falls asleep to the sound of thunder.
Comment by Lei — April 17, 2006 @ April 17, 2006 at 6:58 pm
This is my first time to visit your blog. I love your writing. I love your thoughts about life and I feel I can relate to your way of looking at the world. This post particularly, I felt like you were describing my thoughts… the comforts of your sturdy home with blankets and tea and books… and familiar, cleansing rain… and fears… (although much more beautifully than I could on paper).
I am sadened by your most recent post but understand. Take care!
Comment by jules — May 12, 2006 @ May 12, 2006 at 12:36 pm