Monday, December 15, 2008

The rain is falling here in the City of Angels. It has been a steady down pour throughout the night. These are my favorite nights. I awake several times, just to hear the pitter of the rain only to snuggle deep into the comforter again. As much as I love the pink sunrise in my window, I welcome the rain. I love imagining the earth soaking up every drop, drinking in the steady flow.

I have always said, "There is nothing like Los Angeles after the rain." For all of the terrible things said about Los Angeles, it does sparkle after the rain. The mountains loom majestically over the valley, the downtown buildings rise up through the clean air and you can make out the glint of the Pacific Ocean in the distance.

I am trying to clear my day so I can remain here at home, soaking up the gray, moist morning. We lived in the Pacific Northwest for many years. My children spent their wee years playing in the rain, decked out in rain gear and wellies. We walked in the rain, we played in the rain and we spent many a morning snuggled by the fire, drinking hot cocoa with whipped cream and dreaming of the bright, shining days of spring and summer.

Now, as we gather by the fan and try to escape the oppressive heat of July, it is mornings like this that we desire. So just as the earth is soaking in all of this rainy splendor, I will revel in the damp morning. I will recall how much we desired the rain on those hot summer afternoons.

And I recall a time when we lived in the rain and my children fit under my arms...