I love the rain.

A lot of people certainly don’t, with El Nino and all. Just think of those people in Laguna Niguel whose homes slid down the mountain, and the poor condos that got crushed underneath them.

Of course, one could argue that it’s not really Mother Nature’s fault; after all, cracks starting appearing in the foundations of those homes ten years ago, before their construction was even finished. I’m no expert, of course, but one would think that was a warning sign.

Rain is so appealing because it’s like a shower for the earth. After a rain the air is clean and fresh. Sweet, even. The flowers on my balcony bloom. Rain even makes the pavement smell good.

God, I love the smell of wet pavement (okay, so I’m weird; you got a problem with that??). One of my clients is in Pasadena, literally right up against the mountains, and on a typical day one can drive up there without being able to see the high terrain at all due to the haze. After it rains, though? The hills suddenly appear like an iceberg in front of the Titanic, looming large and powerful a thousand feet above you.

Then there are different types of rain (and snow, for that matter–that’s why the skiing is so much better in Colorado and Utah than Southern California). The torrential rain is not good. I prefer the rain they have in Seattle: light but constant.

The rain in Alaska was like that. I remember it well. It wasn’t the kind of precipitation that would keep you from going outside. It was the kind that would make you go outside because it was so pleasant. We’d run around it in or play frisbee, and when you came back inside you would be damp, but never sopping wet.

Rain is good when you’re inside, too. I love the soothing sound of rain falling on the roof at night, or watching it through the window in my office when I’m working. A simple gift, a reset button for an otherwise humdrum day.

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