I don’t know why, but I’ve always enjoyed the rain. No matter what I’m dealing with, just looking at it out my window or feeling it on my skin makes me know everything will be alright. I feel thankful. I can’t help but smile. And then there are those huge storms with wind that makes the trees bow down, that fall on the earth like a thousand hammers. I’m amazed at the prospect of such power, awe-struck by the one whose hand sent it. At times, it seems to generate its own stillness. Is it possible for noise and silence to coexist? They do in the rain. It invokes a hundred different reflections and thoughts that make my mind race. But for now, it falls outside my window on a tin roof- not gently, sporadically, but still peacefully. The lights are off, and the rain is falling
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