Rain.

I must officially declare in the here and now that rain meets a lot to me, notably more so than most people I have observed. It could have something to do with the fact that I am an Aquarius, and have always been attracted to water. With the ocean, streams, springs, swamps, and climate here, I feel very much at home. The desert held an exceptional sort of beauty that I have not experienced since departing from Arizona, yet I could never feel quite at home in such a place. The summer monsoon was not enough to quench my ever-persistent thirst for rain. I often found myself sitting cross-legged at the base of a bone-dry desert drainage, longing to return to a land where water, the very essence of life, slid off the verdant slopes in limitless abundance. The desert is an enjoyable place to visit for its surrealism, but living there is not for me.

That said, there is something about a rainy day that is more effective than most things in warming my soul and ecapsulating me in a euphoric little bubble. Even an overcast sky on a relatively dry day makes me oddly content. I had a nightmare last night in which I peered out my bedroom window in the morning, only to see a completely clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Maybe five or six such days actually occur here every year. I strangely felt as if I was dying of thirst, even though I am not certain what that must feel like. Fortunately, I woke up to the sound of pouring rain, which likely had not stopped since the previous night, and a sky full of magnificent solid grey. The usual pattern here is that a torrential downpour will occur for ten to fifteen minutes, then the sun may reveal itself, then another band of low-lying clouds will come along and release another downpour. The weather alone can make an otherwise typical day much more interesting, especially for someone such as myself who has a strong interest in meteorology. Lately, however, the rain has barely ceased at all, and the river is more swollen than I have seen it in a long time. The movement and transport of water can produce endless beauty.

Unfortunately, in stereotypes, rain is often used to represent gloom, a foreboding atmosphere, and an excuse to stay inside all day. It's never raining in those commercials advertising a certain product or prescription drug that's supposed to make you feel good, oh no. It's almost always bright and sunny outside, and everyone seems so frolicsome and light-hearted even though a potential side effect of the product they're using is possession by the devil. Could you imagine a bunch of happy people running around in the rain, endorsing a brand of orange juice? As much as I love drinking orange juice in the rain, I doubt it. Humans are usually too afraid of getting their expensive clothes wet, or having their heavy mask of make-up wash away, revealing... *Gasp* ...Their true face! I'm glad, in a way, that a rainy day keeps so many people sheltered. At twilight yesterday, I embarked on a delightful walk around town in the pouring rain. I encountered only a few cars and one or two other walking souls. There were no obese moms hauling around their screeching babies in strollers or equally annoying people. It was an invigorating experience. It always is.

It's not that I never enjoy sunlight, either. I do enjoy its warmth on me from time to time, but only in strict moderation. Fortunately, I happen to work right on the edge of a cloud forest.

I'd better be careful about spending too much time in the water, though... I might develop wrinkles, and we all know you can never be beautiful as long as you have a wrinkle.