132. The Arrival of the Rain

One day, Tim and I walked toward our classes together. Drops started to meander their way to the ground. And we began a medley. He would sing “When you walk in the rain hold your head up high…” And I added,”Raindrops keep falling on my head.” “Thunder, feel the thunder.” “I’m singing in the rain, just singing in the rain.”

Last night, it came.  I could hear the pitter patter on the sky light, and I opened the bedroom window so I could listen to its rhythm on the ivy and the vine leaf maple while I slept.  The rain rebalances. It brings peace.  Rain resolves the crisis’.

Way back in the later ’80’s, I attended Central Washington University.  The dorm we lived in was called Quigley Hall.  One day, Tim and I walked toward our classes together.  Drops started to meander their way to the ground.  And we began a medley.  He would sing “When you walk in the rain hold your head up high…” And I added,”Raindrops keep falling on my head.” “Thunder, feel the thunder.”  “I’m singing in the rain, just singing in the rain.”

Back and forth. “Here comes the rain again, falling on my head like a memory.”  “Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.”  “Now I will stand in the rain on the corner.”  “I’m a rolling thunder, a pouring rain, I’m coming on like a hurricane.”  

It must have been at least five minutes, unrehearsed, not discussed.  Just pure, simple moments of shared awareness.  Beauty.  A sense of being one with the universe.  

We need a lot of rain.  A storm (without lightning).  A downpour.  The smoke needs to clear, the fires need to be squashed.  Both literally and metaphysically, it is time. “Well, I love a rainy night.  I love a rainy night…”