I have no idea what it is about waking up to that soft pitter patter of rain on the roof; it is one of the most soothing and comforting sounds.
Maybe it’s because I grew up in florida and rain was never something to be in want of.. but that sound is more than just a routine experience–
Many memories begin and end with the rain.
My feet up against the wall while laying on my bed wearing tiny ballet slippers. My parents wished me to take a nap, but I wasn’t tired. So I got up and walked into the living room where they were both sitting on the couch, listening to The Piano soundtrack and the rain. The house was dark except for the slight clouded sunshine that was showing through.
Staying up past my bedtime, listening to the rain and writing some sort of poetic short story- I wish I had kept this.
During all those hurricanes, when our power went out and we had to live by candlelight. The house was dark and silent, and you were lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain hitting against the house.
Waking up so many mornings to that glow of dawn, with the rain coming down, and the rest of the house silent.
All of these beautiful, beautiful memories all connected to rain.
But then the sun rises- and that gentle spell is broken.