La Pioggia

Can you even fathom anyone not liking rain? Can you even imagine it? Not liking rain? I mean, what’s not to like? I have a romanticized view of life so the patter of raindrops against a window on a cold winter night is, typically, quite simpatico to me.

I love everything about rain. Especially in winter. I love how it sounds when it raps against a window or shimmies down the roof. I love how it smells when it saturates the ground, and how it clings in droplets of clarity on my Honey-Suckled Arbor. I love it when it turns to frost, and shimmers on every blade of grass.

Rain. As I slumber awake, I hear you and sister-wind circling my house, teasing the chimes, ever so delicately. Pure magic.

My room is frosty so I burrow deep underneath the folds of the white Down that covers me, and nestle softly into the billowy pillows all around. Your rapture lulls me back into a dream. Rain.

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