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Photo by Alex Adkins via Creative Commons

It rained. Or rather, it poured. Large grey clouds darkened the sky, their heavy droplets collecting in puddles and soaking the ground, wind altering the direction of their descent as gravity pulled them towards the earth. From through the house window, I thought to myself, It sure is dreary out there. But upon further inspection, I found that this might not totally be the case.

The wind seemed to be whistling a tune, accompanied by the soft percussion of rain hitting the ground and splashing in puddles. Dancing to that tune were the trees, swaying back and forth, rejoicing in the water that so eagerly rushed down to quench their thirst. The frogs too, could be heard from inside the house, their chorus befitting the scene. And the frogs too, were rejoicing in the long - needed downpour.

When one looked up at the sky, one could see the clouds. On this particular occasion, they weren't just a simple, massive screen of grey, hiding the sun and the bright blue of the atmosphere. For though they were dark and foreboding, they had a certain beauty about them as well. They were fluffy and rounded, and if one could have touched them, they might have felt soft like a chick's down.

I moved to a different window, looking out upon a different part of our yard. The geese frolicked and squawked in the field. A few stragglers had been left behind in the pond, and were rushing to catch up with the rest of the gaggle. Even the horses, soaked as they were, did not seem unhappy. They stood under a tree, tails stock still, for the rain had chased off any flies. Their eyes were bright, as if excited by this storm.

The pond sent waves crashing against the shore, sticks and algae being stranded on its gravelly beaches. No fish jumped, but that may have been because of the lone white egret that swam about in the water, daring a silly fish to show itself. If there had been such a silly fish, it didn't jump out of the water to taunt the bird of prey. And all the while the rain came down, splashing upon the ground.

Finally, I decided to don a raincoat and feel what it was like out there for myself. After pulling on my boots, I ran out the door.

Immediately, a pleasing smell filled my nose. It was the smell of rain. It was comforting and nice, but not sharp enough to feel like an assault. Along with the sound of the wind and the frogs, I could now fully hear the rain, pattering softly onto the earth and my raincoat.

It was cool out there, but pleasantly so, not quite cold, but then leaning more to that side. Underneath my layers, I felt that even if we were to set the thermostat at exactly this temperature, it would not be the same. There was something very vague about the entire feel, but detectable as the soft caress of nature upon my surroundings.

I lifted my head to the sky, blinking constantly as water hit my eyes. The water did not hurt at all, rather felt quite nice. I opened my mouth and stretched my tongue out, yearning for a taste of this caress of nature. And it tasted unlike most water. Once again, it had nature's faint touch to it, like the secret ingredient in a recipe, but this was truly a secret ingredient. I could not place the taste as anything my tongue had experienced before. But it was good.

I sighed as my mother called me in for dinner. I thought to myself, Well, I suppose that upon further inspection, the rain may not be so dreary at all. I put my hand on the doorknob, and drank in the last of this beautiful image.

Reader Interactions


  1. Lukas, this a brilliant piece of writing. Thank you. I am very impressed with the complexity of what you are trying to describe and the clarity with which you succeeded in bringing this rain storm alive. I look forward to your next post.

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