Pluviophile

I hope it rains today.

I know, in this sentiment and desire, I am mostly (but not completely) alone.

I love the rain. I love and miss the sound of rain on the roof of my childhood room in the country. I love the earth cleansing that comes after rain. I love the way my home state looks on a gloriously overcast/rainy day.

My favorite colors are wrought more vivid. Forest green, deep, not quite navy blue, and charcoal grey (really all shades of grey). They always appear more true to color during overcast days. When the sun shines it dulls and fades the color.

I love the word, petrichor. It means, ‘The smell of earth after rain.’ How beautiful is that?

Over the years I’ve written, probably an odd amount about rain. There are several notes containing one thought or feeling.

I love all the quotes, words, and phrases about rain; particularly, ‘God is in the rain.’

I have a particular fondness and affinity for photographing raindrops, on any and every surface.

I love the Hoh rainforest, nestled in the Olympic National Forest. The mystery and natural majesty I experience with each visit is something never lost on me.

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When I was in school for photography, it helped intensify my love of the overcast. Overcast, as was believed by my professor, is the most optimal weather for photography. The lighting is ‘perfect.’ The natural exposure more balanced. If you’ve ever dabbled with photography and have not experimented with the overcast, I highly suggest you give it a try. Just like my favorite colors, things appear how they should. How God intended.

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Currently in my state there is a fire thats running rampant. I am gratefully in a place unaffected by the actual fire, but the smoke. For the last several weeks, on and off, the smoke has rolled in and out, sometimes settling in for days at a time. It blocks the view of the cascade mountains and things much closer. It always gives me pause in wanting to go outside.

Earlier this week the smoke was back and I was selfishly annoyed. Again! I thought with misplaced outrage. Then I saw the forecast, in two days, there was a 50% chance of rain. I was, for a lot of reasons, elated. Rain, God’s natural fire fighter and smoke snuffer. I hoped desperately for the 50% to at least remain if not grow.

It rained, and for that I am eternally grateful. The smoke disappeared and our evergreen state got a much needed drink. (I’m avidly not thinking about how within two days, it was back, with no rain in sight.)

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There’s a special place in my heart for all weather and seasons. Here in Washington, we are blessed to experience all four. There are good and dismal things in every one. And the true beauty, that’s not lost on me, as gifted by where Washington lies on the globe, is that they always come back around.

When I think, I’m tired of applying copious amounts of sunscreen, just in order to go outdoors without the fear of yet another scorching, the rain and crisp coziness of fall appear.

When I my love for overcast, grey days wanes, I’m tired of 45 layers, and I need that golden hue to color everything it touches, spring magically reappears. The first glimpse of the promise of summer.

I’m reminded, writing this, of the phrase, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Now, I won’t get into my particularly annoyed dislike of that being abundantly true, (a topic for another time perhaps) but I will say, it rings true for weather too.

The first hot day warranting sunscreen after the dull days of a seemingly endless winter, is a joy. The heat of the sun and washed out, overexposed landscapes are welcomed with open arms. The anticipation of summer adventures hangs thick and it’s marvelously beautiful.

I doubt, given my fondness for all weather, but particularly grey rainy days, would not exist without its absence for several months.

photos by Carlene Garcia