I’m from Seattle, I know rain. I laugh at Israelis who think a “light shower” requires hats, gloves and umbrellas.

I love getting soaked to the bone, and having the rain drops drip off my eyelashes.  I’ve been waiting to stand in the middle of a thunder-storm since October.

I’m so happy with today’s storm I could cry. I love the big fat drops of liquid sunshine pounding down on me.  It feels wonderful. I love spinning in circles like a child and trying to catch the drops on my tongue. Proof again that I am certifiable.

Even my children think I’m nuts. This morning as they put on thick boots, umbrellas, winter jackets, and gloves, I their mad mother took them to the bus in light sweater and laughed harder the wetter I got. I felt alive.

Alive I tell you, A-L-I-V-E, and I haven’t felt that for a while.  I wanted to be Lady Chatterley and rip off my clothes and run through it, but quite sure the neighbors wouldn’t appreciate it.

But maybe it’s as Lawrence describes the changes that Connie is going through, “Vaguely she knew herself that she was going to pieces in some way. Vaguely she knew she was out of connection: she had lost touch with the substantial and vital world. ….Void to void. Vaguely she knew. But it was like beating her head against a stone.

Today’s rain brought about an awakening or a rejuvenation from the last six months. As if the sweat of the summer heat was washed away. I could breath without choking.

It’s been a long time since I felt that relieved. Of course,  it was temporary. Soon enough all the have to-s, must do-s, owes come back to mind. But to be free from the daily pressures even for two minutes, wow, what a release. I was reminded from the quote, “A woman has to live her life, or live to repent not having lived it” – Lawrence.

I was reminded of running through the rain in Rome. One of my best friends screaming at me to get under the umbrella. That was one of the happiest days of my life. I was in the rain in Rome, and alive.

As I watched the bus pulling away with ninjas on board, I thought that perhaps I’d been spending too much time caught up in the Stormy Weather and not enough time Singing in the Rain.

Isn’t the point of rain to bring new growth? I’d forgotten that for a while.

Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.  Rabindranath Tagore

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