It sure was good to get that rain last week. The older I get, the more I appreciate the wet stuff. When I was a kid, I didn’t want it to rain—ever. In fact, “Rain, rain, go away, please come back another day,” was a bold-faced lie I often said as a child. Child, please! I didn’t care if the ground was cracking. I didn’t care if the weather was partly cloudy with a 100% chance of dust, I did not want rain on my radar, figuratively or literally speaking.
Nowadays, I wouldn’t care if it rained every day. I sure could have used it over the summer with my garden. I watered my crops by hand every single day, sometimes twice a day. I didn’t mind, though, because it gave me that one on one time with each one of my babies that each one so desperately needed. My watering and sweet talk paid off by yielding a tremendous amount of fruits and vegetables for this first time farmer. I can’t wait until next spring.
I made the mistake of getting out in the traffic during that first day of rain. I don’t know what I was thinking. You would have thought that the automobile had been invented that morning. It was as if a pack of Jack Russells all jacked up on Mountain Dew had stolen all the cars from the Kia plant and went for one huge joyride around Opelika and Auburn. Henry Ford was no doubt rolling over in his Model T.
I should have just stayed put and enjoyed it from the comfort of my own home.
I recognize and appreciate rain with all five senses: hearing, sight, touch, smell, and taste.
There’s nothing quite like the sound of rain. I have pleasant childhood memories from my maw maw’s old log cabin home way out in the country. The sound of the rain pounding down on that old tin roof is a sound I hope to be able to create one day at my own country home. For what it’s worth, it may have been aluminum, but tin is easier to spell.
I love to sit out on my porch and watch the rain. Forrest Gump described it as everything from “little bitty stinging rain” to “sideways rain” to “big fat rain.”
I love to touch the rain, too. I love when those first few drops fall. I hold out both hands, palms up just to verify that I did indeed feel a drop of rain. I love to look up and feel a couple of drops on my face. What I do not love is when I’m sitting out on my porch and my hands, face, and whole body gets slammed by the “sideways rain.”
To me, the smell of rain is up there with bacon, pretty ladies, and puppy breath on the Mount Rushmore of pleasant smells. Besides puppy breath, I could use a whole lot more of these pleasant smells in my life. Ruby is all the dog I need for now.
I even like to open my mouth wide, look up into the sky, and taste the rain. The “big fat rain” is the best style for tasting.
Barring thunder and lightning, rain is just plain peaceful. I sleep so well during a downpour. There’s nothing like raised windows in a bedroom during a drizzle, or so I hear. I don’t have screens, so I can’t do that. I don’t want to let my inside critters out, nor do I want to let the outside critters in. One day, I’ll invest in screens and truly know what living the good life is.
I think it’s supposed to rain Monday. I can’t wait. Maybe I’ll get a pie pan and stick it outside my bedroom window.
Jody Fuller is from Opelika, Alabama. He is a comedian, speaker, writer and soldier with three tours of duty in Iraq. He is also a lifetime stutterer. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. For more information, please visit http://www.jodyfuller.com.