the beauty of the rain

What is it Dar sings about rain? Ah yes... "The beauty of the rain is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls." Granted, Dar is using rain as a metaphor for a relationship, so what metaphors she might choose to use for rain I don't know. But it's true, in any case. The beauty of the rain is how it falls.

It's been a rainy few days. Spring is here, I dare say, though we still have all of April to challenge us with unexpected snowstorms. But I am hopeful. Josh and Sally are sucking the sap out of their maple tree, spreading compost on the gardens, and nurturing seedlets in the laundry room. Signs of spring for certain.


So how does the rain fall? Down. Or inward, I suppose, depending on whether you're on Earth or outside of Earth. In any case, it falls in the direction that it is required to fall. Toward the ground. Toward gravity. It doesn't have a choice, but it can certainly enjoy the journey. I guess I might change the line to say, "The beauty of the rain is that it falls." It is beautiful because it does the only thing it can do. It falls. And it does so always gracefully. When rain is frightening, it is because of wind or lightning or thunder or hail. Rain on it's own is simple. It's water. It gives life. I love spring.

"The truth about the rain is how it falls, how it falls, how it falls."

My life looks different this spring than my life the last many springs. Instead of a slow decrescendo into summer, I am in the midst of a slow (sometimes painfully slow) crescendo into the world of having a career. There is no stretching out on the library lawn to study for finals. There is no sitting with beer and chips on a blanket outside. There are no finals or concerts. But I am energized and excited. I have my name in two Bibles. I am a published editor and contributor. I am seen and heard. I am making like a tulip and starting to poke up through my own personal dirt. I am known to my coworkers and to people who don't know my face (read about it in Beth's blog post). I am proud.

So keep your eyes open for green. Buy a bundle of daffodils. Grab your raincoat and run outside. Watch the rain slide down your windowpanes. Christian oriented or not, spring is a time for rebirth, for newness, for growth. It's time to poke your head out and bloom.