I love the soft rains that go on through the night and the way it soothes me to sleep better than any music can.
I love the hard, pouring rains that batter buildings and sound like they are trying to tear through the roof.
I love getting "caught" in the rain. Being in a store or on a walk and the clouds darken and you feel the sprinkles and then, if you are lucky, the torrential downpour.
I love having an excuse to have to run in the rain to the car. "Don't worry honey. I will brave the dangerous water on my skin, hair, and clothes. I will bring the car around and an umbrella so you can avoid getting wet." All for show ... it's really just all for me to be able to do what I have always loved doing in the rain ... playing like a 5-year old kid!
When I lived in Orem, Utah we had a porch over the garage that was not fully enclosed (in truth we were only kept from falling to safety by a rather questionable metal railing). Sitting on the porch as the rains came down all around us (you could see off the porch on three sides) is my earliest memory of when I began my love affair with rain. We used to "sneak" out and have wood chip races down the street gutters (or the middle of the street if it had rained hard enough). I am not ashamed to admit I still ache to do this every time I see rushing water in the street.
On my mission in Los Angeles, CA there was a four-month stretch where I served in the Long Beach area. It has now become an entirely different mission but that is another story for another blog ... don't worry, all in due time my loyal readers. I remember one day when the rains came so hard that we had to get off our bikes and walk them home because the water was too deep to ride in. Most other days it would just leave a nice muddy trail up the middle of your back, but on this day it was like I could hear God calling "Noah! Noah!" only He always sounds like Bill Cosby when I think of that. Elder Burton and I got back to our apartment and were completely soaked to the bone (so much for "dry-cleaned" suits, eh?!) But instead of getting dried off, we simply hung our suit coats up and went and played in the street. There was at least two feet of water in the places where the gutters could usually be found and it was about four inches deep in the middle of the street. We got out some sleds that one of the neighbors had (they must have taken them on trips 'cause there is never snow in Long Beach) and dove on them into the "river" in the street. The water drained away within just a few hours but that was one of my most favorite "playing time" memories from my mission years.
There are many other stories I could post of the rain, and I probably will when I get a few months in and need more topics. But today the subject was important because we had to rush all 8 of us through a medium density downpour out of Ridgeview Elementary school down to the safety of our car after attending meet the teachers night. It was like a scene from a movie where the team has to make a plan of attack and then execute, dealing with challenges as they arise from nowhere. It was agreed in our family pow-wow that I would carry Catalina (3) and Savannah (almost 5). Karen would carry baby Myra. Josh Jr would take the car keys and lead the charge (he is faster than me when I am carrying two kids, but with just one I think I could still take him). Ben and Brooklyn were on their own. :) Through the screaming and shouting (and Cat crying because "da watah is gettin' on my showt an' I don' yike it!") we made it to the car and enjoyed a good laugh about how soaked we were. Sadly, I ruined it by yelling at the kids who began arguing over who had to sit in the back ... in my defense, I believe rainy situations create a sort of martial law where you play a less official game of musical chairs. Take what you got and be glad you're not getting wetter!
Here's a "hail" picture from last summer at the pool. I was "rescuing" Karen and Catalina, but we all know I was just making an excuse to play in the rain/hail. :)