Do you ever listen to the sound of the rain? Sitting in a silent home in the middle of nowhere in Portugal, with a huge window I notice that I am captivated by the sound the drops make, and watching the rings they create in the puddles they have made.
I think about turning on some music, but decide instead to simply enjoy the natural sounds around me. Happily there is no TV to distract me, so I am free to admire the lushness of the plants, and wonder if the pots on the ledge outside will fill with water and become too heavy for the ledge, or whether this is a normal occurrence and have nothing to fear.
Usually I consider rain a perfect reason to stay indoors and watch TV all day. I might make plans to read, or clean up, but instead find myself lying on my couch ignoring the rain, or annoyed with it for keeping me from going outside. (As if it is!)
Freeing myself to create my life instead of following it, I notice that the rain becomes a source of beauty and entertainment. It covers open ground, caresses the trees and spends some moments on the branches before descending to the pool of their sister and brother drops already there. Some drops are heavy, and some light. In some moments it seems like the sky is weeping, and in others it feels like the rain is a gift kissing everything she touches. I am free to notice the depth and detail (remembering the message I received and putting it to use!) of the experience of the rain, rather than turning my back to it in favor of Family Guy or re-watching a Harry Potter movie.
Eventually the water will seep into the ground or gently jump into the air, and the memory of it will be in the brightness of the leaves and plants stretching up to the sun.
How much I have missed, and how happy I am to now see and feel.