It’s raining here today. Rainy days out here are special because they happen pretty infrequently. Growing up on a farm in the midwest I developed an affinity for rain at an early age. My dad was usually in a good mood when it rained since it was good for the crops. During the summer the rain also meant no work that day. Instead of working I could sit on the front porch and watch and listen to the rain march across the cornfield. Simple days.

We now live out west.I love the rain in the mountains. The clouds draped on the mountainside are filled with mystery. What are they hiding ? What do they portend? You can imagine yourself in an exotic locale like the Scottish Highlands or perhaps Machu Picchu.These days call for a good Agatha Christie novel or perhaps something by Poe. The rain on the skylight could be something rapping on the door.

And if you are really lucky you might get some lightning with that rain. When you do a good Washington Irving story comes to mind.Somehow storytelling and rain seem to go hand in hand.Perhaps that’s because the best stories deal with primal forces.

And life sustaining rain is a primal force indeed. The sun may be a God but without rain he cannot sustain life. Our trees, plants, the food we eat all need the rain. And how lucky are we to live on a planet with abundant water.

I love that we don’t really have anything approaching a consensus as to where this water came from. Something as delightful as rain deserves a mysterious origin story shrouded by the mists of time. But enough with these digressions. Let the scientists ponder these questions. As for me I am going to settle back and watch the rain drops fall to a grateful planet. Farewell and be well.