Don’t you just love the sound of rain hitting the ground below you or the roof above your head? I know I do. Rain is one of my favorite things on the planet… next to sunshine. The smell of the air before and after a rain shower is, where I come from, the smell of spring itself. When you walk outside into a rain storm and that first singular drop hits your face it can feel magical. That refreshing magic that makes you hopeful that winter can finally come to an end. That the everlasting New England winters can and will be over.

For, around here, the winters are as long as a sleepless night and the snows can fall in early autumn if they so please. But when that first rain falls and the snow eventually melts there is that sense that the world is as amazing as it was before the winter gloom decided to move over the world. Or at least our little corner of the world.

And when the sun finally shows us its smile we soak it up like we may never see it again. And still we love the rain. My theory is that because it has the ability to wash everything away we cannot help but admire it. So we wait, we wait for all the pain and all the tears to be washed away with the tears of the sky.