It’s time

It’s been raining for hours now, alternating between slow-and-steady and violent-and-forceful . . . I find this range very soothing and comforting.

Comforting.

It’s been a while since I’ve found anything “comforting”.  Life lately has been . . . eventful, for lack of a better word, and I’m at a loss.  So many things have happened over the past few months, things I am loath to even mention.  Regardless of the light or dark, highs or lows, day or night, life continues on unabated.

But I digress.

Yes, I freely admit my love of rain.  I love the quiet, gentle rain that feels like a lover’s caress.  I love the raging, timorous storm that makes my skin tingle every time the lightening strikes or the thunder booms.  I wish I could find the words to adequately describe how the rains/storms make me feel, but I believe only another with a similar affinity would understand and, to the best of my knowledge, I’ve found just one other.

I think part of the reason I love this time of year is because of the rain.  Afterall, Spring is a time of rebirth and rain is needed to assist in this renewal.  It seems as if it is also a time of personal rebirth for some people . . . a time to shake off Winter’s hibernation and prepare to live again in the sun.