Sunshine on a Rainy Day
I sit on the steps in front of my house, pull back my hair, and slip on my running shoes. The late afternoon sun trickles into the yard through the cherry tree leaves above; the summer air envelops me, suffocating in its heat. The stone path leading up to the porch is covered in a fine layer of dust that has accumulated after a few days without rain. I begin to jog down the sidewalk, settling comfortably into my familiar route. Suddenly, a soft breeze disrupts the still air and the sky noticeably darkens. I gaze up to see large gray clouds moving in off the coast. The first drops begin to fall from the sky and I smile, embracing the cool refreshing pinpricks on my skin. There’s nothing I love more than a run in the summer rain. Gradually, gently, I am surrounded by petrichor: the smell of a parched earth taking a much needed sip of water. The rain begins to come down harder and I quicken my steps. I feel like I’m flying. Flying and invisible — shrouded by cascades of water. Alive.
I grew up in Seattle, Washington, where rain is as much a part of our culture as coffee and king salmon. Seattle is a city full of pluviophiles — lovers of rain. We’re known for our stubborn refusal to accept umbrellas as a practical solution to staying dry on a rainy day. Although for some people this might have less to do with a love for rain and more to do with the difficulty of simultaneously carrying an umbrella and a cup of coffee. Regardless, I probably have a much more positive perception of rain than does the average American, as a result of my Pacific Northwest upbringing.
In day to day life, it is rare to find someone (who isn’t a Seattlite) who would prefer a gray rainy day to the bright warm sun. Those who lack financial or home security might find it difficult to stay warm and dry on a rainy day, and have some reason to be wary of the rain. However, for most, the worst rain will amount to is some wet hair and muddy shoes. Yet many still have difficulty embracing rain’s beauty. The association between rain and the nourishment of life in urban Western culture has become extremely convoluted. When produce is purchased in a grocery store and a glass of water is filled directly from the kitchen tap, it can be difficult to appreciate the essentiality of rain, and much easier to see it merely as an inconvenience — something that gets in the way of plans.
Throughout Western popular culture rain is portrayed with extremely negative connotations. This is exemplified in pretty much every song I can think of that has “rain” in the title. John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival sings, “I want to know, have you ever seen the rain? Coming down on a sunny day”. Have you ever felt like you have every reason in the world to be happy, but for some reason you still feel blue? In this case, Fogerty is using rain as an analogy for his experience of feelings of unhappiness in a time that is objectively good, or “sunny”. Scottish rock band Travis sings, “Why does it always rain on me?” — or, in other words, why do bad things always happen to me? Again, negative connotations are attributed to rain, using it as analogy for the undesirable. This cultural framing of rain as a symbol for unhappiness has greatly influenced the way in which we perceive rain in our everyday lives.
Take a moment to think back on an upsetting time in your life — a breakup, a failed exam, a burnt piece of toast. Now place yourself in that moment and imagine taking a look out the window. What do you see? I bet it’s rain, even if you don’t remember clearly. I’ve found in my own experience — despite my love of rain — I seem to retrospectively associate memories that invoke unhappy feelings with gloomy, rainy days. Why is this the case?
Our perceptions of rain are defined by the culture that surrounds us. Depending on who you talk to, rain on your wedding day can be seen as extremely good or extremely bad luck. Even the term pluviophile was likely generated as a byproduct of the cultural characteristics of society. Only in cultures (such as our own) where one is seen as an anomaly for their love of rain would it be necessary to develop a term to describe these individuals. In regions of the world where rain is abundant, it might be more difficult to understand the implications of a reduction in rainfall. The reality is that rain is essential to many aspects of our life, and isn’t something to be taken for granted. The livestock we raise, the plants we grow, the hydration of our own bodies — they’re all dependent on clean water.
Almost 60% of the world’s agriculture is naturally fed by rain. However, an increasingly large percentage of agriculture is fed by irrigation, which requires a stored source of clean water, according to Tim Miner in “Why Rain is Important”. As we continue to consume and pollute, we are irreversibly tainting the world’s clean-water stores — with industrial waste, detergents, chemical fertilizers, sewage leaks, and more — to the point where we may someday be forced to turn entirely to rain to support our livelihood. Regardless of how a rainy day makes you feel, rain is something that we cannot live without.
On the flip side, in cultures in which rain is sustenance for people and their agriculture and livestock, rain is not despised, but venerated. Many cultures engage in “rainmaking”, or weather modification rituals intended to bring rain to the land. In regions that experience extreme droughts, rain is often associated with fertility and cleansing, and its onset is exuberantly celebrated. In “When Rain Falls…”, historian Paul Landau explores the Botswana people and their relationship with rain. To those who live in rural Botswana, rain is the central focus of existence, as it is both extremely scarce and absolutely critical to livelihood. Pula, the name of the country’s currency, means rain — further emphasizing the value it holds in society. The Tswapong people of Eastern Botswana lead an agriculturally-based lifestyle and harvest sorghum, a crop that is fairly resistant to drought. However, irrigation is severely undeveloped, and agriculturalists rely on rainfall to sustain crop growth. Bestowed upon the Kgosi, or chief, of the Tswapong is the responsibility of rainmaking — bringing rain to the community fields. At the site of a waterfall in the Moremi Gorge in the Tswapong Hills, the Kgosi carries out a rainmaking ceremony where families bring offerings of sorghum and it is announced that the plowing of the fields may begin, as described by Debnow and Thebe in Culture and Customs of Botswana. In contrast with many members of urban Western society, the people of Botswana have developed a much more favorable view of rain through observing such a direct relationship between rain and livelihood.
Sometimes it’s important to try to experience the world from a lens that is not our own. When something makes you feel a certain way, take a minute to wonder why. And when it rains, remember to run, dance, smile, and be grateful that the most essential ingredient of life falls so conveniently from the sky.
