To me, rain is magical. My love for it is probably why I loved The Netherlands so much. Everything about it makes me happy.
The smell of wet dirt, grass and pavement.
The feel of the cool breeze against my face.
The sounds of rushing water, as if I suddenly live under a waterfall. The whishhhh of cars as they drive past, and the rumble of thunder in the distance.
It’s even better when it thunderstorms. The darkness to instant day as lighting streaks across the sky in it’s tree like form. The giant claps of thunder that almost make your heart stop for a split second.
The other day it thundered so loud Joel hit the living room floor. After we stopped crying from laughter he told me he thought it was a gunshot outside. Then I cried laughing all over again.
Thunderstorms change the weather in a matter of minutes. It can go from blistering hot to nearly chilly. From dry to humid. Or humid to dry. You just never know.
The unknown is the best part. There’s always a vague sense of danger. But as long as I’m home cozy and dry I know there’s little chance any harm will come to me.
Nothing makes me happy quite like rain. Nothing soothes me to sleep better.
I’m grateful for days when the skies are blue and the sun warms my face. But I wouldn’t mind if every night I was lulled to sleep by the song of rain.