I’m listening to the rainfall, but I never seem to hear just the rain. It’s always connected with something else. My first thought goes to the plants and trees. I can feel their reprieve from the months of dry and their opportunity for life and growth. It’s palpable. Here in California, it only rains in the winter. We’ll go six or eight months with nothing, but as soon as the first rain hits the ground, new green pushes out everywhere, grass and buds and leaves, something new every day. And I’ve never been more ready for something new.
It might be my imagination, but I can feel the relief in the birds and deer, even the crows, and their resilience is reassuring. It’s a time of plenty, more than enough, and soon we’ll see spotted fawns and miniature squirrels running, jumping, and playing. And rain is connected to fresh and clean, washing away the old and releasing us from the past. Yeah, rain is always connected with something else. But this year, more than any I can remember, it’s connected with a fresh start.