Memoir/Personal Essay


I love the rain, its muffled sounds through the glass pane in the morning before the sun glows above the rooftops and spills into the room one slat space at a time. I love the practice of opening blinds each morning flooding life into empty rooms. Rain gives shape to the air, animates the motionless gray of the streets. It is the tiny cold tips of needles tapping my skin with a temporary chill, then sliding away as if it had never existed. Yet the sensation is still there – lingering – like the ghost of a discarded lover. It is the permission I need to let go as it washes away the to do to do to do, sweeping it away to rest in someone else’s yard, where they can pick it up and carry on.


2 thoughts on “Rain”

  1. I love your post. Especially right at this moment. I live in the desert where rain is scarce and we are in the midst of a terrible drought. But right now, at this very moment, it’s raining gently and oh so welcome. So often when we do get rain it comes in a deluge…it is rare indeed nto experience this kind of gentle rain. And oh the air smells so good.


    1. We have been without rain for a while now, too. It was just glorious to sit and listen to it. I shut the air off and opened the windows just so I could hear it.

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