Remembering Rain

My wife and I were watching a movie the other night. About halfway through the film, a man pulled his car off to the side of the road to call his wife. He was in the process of leaving a message when it began to rain. The rain started slowly, gradually building in intensity until raindrops were pounding on the roof of his car. Rain covered the windows with thousands of silver droplets. It appeared as if this man was on the inside of a fishbowl looking out. He cracked one of the windows and held the phone outside so his wife could hear the sound of the rain falling. You see she is the commander on a spaceship headed to Mars. Both of them may have been thinking this could be the last time that his wife would ever hear rain.

As I watched this scene play out, intense feelings of longing and sadness flooded over me. I felt the way that couple were probably feeling. Would I ever hear the sound of rain again? Where I live it’s been nine months since there’s been any measurable amount of rainfall. I’ve nearly forgotten what the rainy day experience is like. The land is brittle and baked, covered with ash and dust from  relentless heat and wildfires. Rain; cool, quenching rain. I close my eyes and reimagine the experience.

What does rain sound like? It rat-a-tats onto the roof of our deck. It swishes through our fruit trees. It hisses under car tires rolling along rain slicked streets. It splashes over squealing, puddle stomping children. It rushes through a rain swollen creek. It drips down the rain gutter outside our bedroom window, lulling me to sleep.

How does rain feel? It’s cleansing and cool on my face as I tilt my head back to catch each drop. It’s cold and wet and squishy when I walk barefoot through the grass.

What does rain look like? Trees and plants bending under its weight. Raindrops forming perfect crystal balls on leaves and petals, each one reflecting an infinite piece of the sky. Cars and streets, sidewalks and trees all take on the glow of the freshly cleansed. The surfaces of lakes and rivers transformed into millions of glittering, dancing diamonds.

What does rain smell like? Wet hair and wet fur. Mud and memories. Hope and possibilities. Gardens and growth. Relief and renewal. The promise of a new day.

What does rain taste like? Life.

Scientists are convinced that water once flowed freely on the surface of Mars. Drenching storms fed mighty rivers which carved massive canyons more grand than our own. It’s been a few million years since umbrellas were needed on the Red Planet though; rain and flowing water there being memories more distant than the human mind can wrap itself around. Will intelligent beings studying our planet in the distant future say the same of us? “Rain once fell there, rivers flowed…”

This entry was posted in Musings by Louie Ferrera. Bookmark the permalink.

About Louie Ferrera

I've always loved to write. I'll often bring a journal to record my thoughts and observations when I'm out in nature. I've done some international travel and have always kept a journal on my trips. As a musician, I've been writing songs for over 25 years. I recently completed a creative writing class at the local junior college. This class got me reenergized about writing. I decided that I wanted to share my writing with a wider audience, not just friends and family. So here it is, my maiden voyage into the world of blogging. If you like what you read, leave me a comment, I'd love to hear from you.

One thought on “Remembering Rain

Comments are closed.