It was a pretty gorgeous weekend weather wise (albeit a bit balmy), which led to plenty of outdoor grilling, walking and lounging. Today, we’re experiencing ark-building levels of precipitation, a reminder that it is still spring. Because summer’s prequel is close to its closing credits, I figured I might honor one of its signature qualities: glorious yet melancholy, life-giving, fresh-start-creating rain.
“Love like rain, can nourish from above, drenching couples with a soaking joy. But sometimes under the angry heat of life, love dries on the surface and must nourish from below, tending to its roots keeping itself alive.” — Paulo Coelho (from By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept)
“I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry.
Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it’s just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.” — Ray Bradbury (from Green Shadows, White Whale: A Novel of Ray Bradbury’s Adventures Making Moby Dick with John Huston in Ireland)
“Are the days of winter sunshine just as sad for you, too? When it is misty, in the evenings, and I am out walking by myself, it seems to me that the rain is falling through my heart and causing it to crumble into ruins.” — Gustave Flaubert
“The sun did not shine. It was too wet to play. So we sat in the house. All that cold, cold, wet day.” — Dr. Seuss (from The Cat in the Hat)