Amanda DeSalme, Thoreau: rain

From Henry David Thoreau's Walden:

"Some of my pleasantest hours were during the long rain-storms in the spring or fall, which confined me to the house for the afternoon as well as the forenoon, soothed by their ceaseless roar and pelting; when an early twilight ushered in a long evening in which many thoughts had time to take root and unfold themselves" (Thoreau, 106).

I have always enjoyed the rain. Summer thunderstorms are also extremely exciting. When I was younger, I used to love reading scary books by candelight while a thunderstorm was going on. Even if the power stayed on, I would turn off the lights and read by candelight, because it was so natural and exciting. The calmer rain was also always very invigorating. Talk about a cleansing experience. As I grew older I still enjoyed the rain. I would sit outside on my porch, sheltered by a roof, and watch the rain- gathering thoughts, centering myself, and writing poetry, while catching a light mist on my face. Eventually, when I was done writing down my every observation, I would run out from under the roof of my porch and dance in the gushing, refreshing, downpour of rain. I frolicked and spun in circles, I skipped around my house noticing glossy leaves with droplets of rain trickling down stems and feel the sopping wet ground under my bare feet. I watched small rivers form in my yard and small waterfalls pour off of the roof of my house. I would comment on the color of the sky and the swirling clouds and the glittering droplets of water, splashing around in a sparkling river of joy. I would dance around outside like a lunatic just to enjoy nature's extravagant gush of a shower, until I was soaked to the bone, and then I would retreat inside to dry off and do some homework before bed. This beautiful experience was always the most refreshing one I could have, especially during stressful times. On days when I felt melancholy or just wanted to write, I would hope for rain. On days that I needed to let loose and frolick, I hoped for rain. I have written in a previous blog about the beauty of water, but I did not mention the joy of rain. The musical pitterpatter or louder rushing roar of a harder rain always bring happiness to my ears. It calls me to contemplate or reflect on life. It calls me to dance in it, to wash my artificial life away in a downpour from mother nature. It calls me to listen.