I remember the day I became a pluviophile.
Sitting at the back door of my college dorm.
That’s the day I joined the ranks.
I became a pluviophile — a lover of rain.
I remember clearly I was on my way to the library on a Saturday afternoon.
As I stepped out the door, the wind caught and slammed the door against the wall.
I looked up into the sky catching the swirling gray-green of thunder clouds and the warm wet scent of approaching turbulence.
Damn! I thought. It’s going to rain.
I sat on the door step losing myself in the wind and swirl and the warmth and the color.
As I took in the sky, my Oklahoma tornado brain reminded me that the color was significant and I waited for the bad weather horn to sound the tornado alarm.
The sky was an amazing symphony of motion, as warm air danced with cool at the edge of the storm.
So much comes into play and nothing is left unaffected.
Tree branches straining to catch, leaves jumping, pressure building.
And then the sound.
Angels bowling in heaven my Grandmother Flora told me when I was little.
Someone slicing open a ripe cloud to release the mighty rumble inside.
The wind backing away startled.
Then the sound turned to light or is it the other way round — branching across the sky, creating veins of sizzle and fray.
I don’t know how long I sat there so enmeshed in wonder at the event playing for me alone, losing any sense of audience, stage or cast.
Everything was there: thunder, lightning, wind, rain and me.
One of the most amazing thunderstorms ever.
As I look back, I’m not entirely sure of the why of the next part.
As the worst of the swirl settled, I made a firm resolution that has stayed resolutely with me since then:
From this day forward I LOVE RAIN!
You see, up until this point while I enjoyed thunder and lightning, I resented the intrusion, the inconvenience, the interruption of my plans, my intentions, my life.
Rain interferes and ruins and diverts or so I thought.
I used to be a no to rain.
However, in that moment I decided that if I said no to rain, it was my no which was disruptive and distracting.
With a no to rain, then anything could be subject to disappointment only because of rain.
Standing against created the trouble.
Rain is not controllable; she doesn’t obey social niceties or well-laid plans.
She comes as she willeth.
My reaction, my choice, my opinion about rain — that’s under my control, malleable to positive circumstances and a happy outlook.
Life has rain.
I have choice.
I choose to love rain.
I am a pluviophile and proud of it!
What do you choose?
A lot of my writing just comes in the moment. I feel an urge rise to put pen to paper. No outline. Not much forethought. Out the words come, all on their own. For me its always an act of mindfulness. A mindful moment.
Pluviophiles Rule! is one of these mindful moments. Read more on mindfulness and my mindful moments.
