Rainy days

Here in the Pacific Northwest, rainy days are usual, sometimes the norm, and never more than just over the western horizon for storms to fly through on the jet stream. And some years, rainy days more common than sunny ones. It's the nature of the cyclical annual and seasonal weather patterns. And this years seems they're the norm. So far anyway.

And that's what's happening today. The clouds came overnight into the morning and by late morning the rain started and hasn't stopped, often intensifying into a downpour before lightening up to a gentle shower. It's the nature of spring storms and more so the major storm fronts travelling through.

Since I retired I tend to stay indoors and watch the rain from the deck. I still go out now and then, sometimes to wear the expedition rain suit I used for years doing field work and hiking, but mostly now I just hibernate and watch. I can wait it out now, at least spring storms. The winter ones, you can't, you just bundle up and go.

I remember in Oregon and here in Washington I used to do a week or more field trip into Cascade and Coast Ranger mountains in the rain. From the time I got in my truck to the time I got back to the warerhouse and go home. The only time I wasn't in the rain was in the gage house and in the truck. But my trusty rainsuit kept me warm and dry and only my hands got wet from writing in the field books.

And I've gone hiking and done photo trips in the rain. Hiking in the rain is interesting. It promotes hiking. All you want is to get somewhere under a shelter. I hate tents so I tried for shelters. But even then, your backpack is all wet. and everything is wet so sitting and eating is still being in the rain. Soggy sandwiches and chips and all. It's gets tiring after some years and I quit hiking in the rain but I still shoot photo events in the rain.

And I love the sound of the rain on against the roof, the harder the rain, the louder the sound, and the more I like it. It's why I liked hiking in the rain, the sound against the top of your head, or the roof in my place. Like in the song by Dave Matthews, "Grave Digger", about asking to dig a shallow grave to feel the rain.

But this essay isn't about the rain really, but the mind and the rain. Sometimes we're inexplicably drawn to something, as innate and intuitive as just being. For me, it's rain. I like standing watching, sensing, feeling, hearing, smelling, and everything else the rain is. Rain is indifferent. It just rains on everything. It's the lifecycle of the earth, out planet. Without it we wouldn't be here.

Besides being indifferent, rain is relentless. It just doesn't stop. It's always there, just waiting outside. Just waiting and raining. You can dress to stay dry, but that doesn't change the rain. It won't go away until the storm travels through to somewhere else. And then you get the smell of the rain, it leaves that smell that we always know it rained.

And surprisingly no matter how soon the rain was or how long ago it last rained, you like that smell. It only lingers awhile, like the steam from puddles evaporating in the sun. Here for awhile and gone, but leaving its mark in your memory. You always knows the smell and remember the steam. The rain is gone but it never leaves.

Kinda' like my Dysthymia and living with it.