#AmWriting

And then came the rain.

24 Days of Grateful [Day 14]

I can hear the rain outside my bedroom window. I am safe in here, wrapped in white sheets with gray flower petals and propped up by four superfluous (but totally necessary) pillows. Most of the lights are off in my apartment, except for one in the kitchen left on to desperately try and keep my three plants alive. Because even though they live by the wide glass door in my living room, they are all looking pale and withered. There hasn’t been much sun the past few days, although there has been rain, fog, and the grey.

I am not complaining. Many New Englanders are at the moment, fearful that this uncharacteristic warm, gloomy weather bodes bad news for January.

“It’s f***ing December – I want some f***ing snow!” was a recent comment in a conversation I had this weekend. I do love a white Christmas, and I also agree that this late fall atmosphere probably means an icy opening to 2016. Most of us up here in Central Massachusetts are expecting Mother Nature to bury us in impassable drifts again. However, I am grateful for this weather, no matter what it means for the coming months. Because right now, it is raining outside my window, and I love the rain.

I love listening to its life-giving rhythm, pounding the ground and slithering down shingles. Watching it drip, slowly and then fast, like silver snakes flashing on glass. I love falling asleep riding its melody, its voice steady and pounding, making my heart beat a little slower and my thoughts flow a little smoother. It surrounds me in natural speakers banging on the outside of the walls, a waterfall everywhere, a cloak of safety as I fall asleep. A cascade of glittering slivers shooting down black nights.

It is one of my favorite kinds of weather, so active and wet and alive. I love when I go running and I can’t tell if the slickness on my face is from sweat or the skies. The truth is that it is always a little of both; a little of my salt, a little of Heaven’s stormy sweetness. We mix together and make a chilly pulse, my body flushed from exertion and my skin shuddering with sheen.

It is getting heavier now; Heaven has something more to say tonight. I’m not sure if it is asking New England to prepare for the cold coming soon, or simply flushing out the rest of heat left up there. We all need to clean house once in a while. Either way, I’m grateful I get to listen to it while I write. Not many better things than your bed and words and a window with sparkling possibility streaming down.

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