It’s raining here at the moment, a gentle spring rain that will hopefully encourage my little lettuce seedlings to grow.
Not that you asked me, but I have two favorite memories of rain. One is of my mother, who loved to walk in the rain.
The other is from last year at one of the music festivals we hosted here. On the first night, there was a crazy, powerful, lightning storm, so intense it was unsafe for the musicians to be plugged in. I was taking the opportunity to do some last minute straightening, because my best friends were coming early the next morning, when I heard music coming from the giant beer tent (which housed one of the three stages) outside my kitchen window. I ran out, storm be damned, and The Way Down Wanderers, a really great string band, were playing unplugged…at least a hundred damp people were squeezed into that tent, singing and dancing and laughing…the positive energy was so incredible it still gives me the chills when I hear that particular song. (I’m sure Insideout has photo documentation of that somewhere.)