It's raining

I love rain, especially when it comes crashing down on the rooftops and through the leaves and branches of trees. The sound of falling water, it changes in pitch, tone and volume depending on where it is falling. All that water falling and flowing in tiny streams and gathering into pools - ah, all that chatter of falling rain and gurgling water, the rising and falling tempo, its tingle on the skin and the heady smell it evokes from dry earth. It is a treat from the gods, a heavenly invite to rejoice.
Tropical rain is sudden, rushing and copious. It nourishes the earth and cools the air. It fills the ponds and lakes, and raises the water table. It washes the trees and the streets. It clears the air of pollutants. Water-washed leaves glisten in the light and in the night they reflect the street light like a thousand light bulbs. You see the trees festooned with lights. Thunder adds to the feeling of being among the primordial elements of the earth. Lightning appears like intense flashlight from a mighty camera.
Everything is wet and dripping, like the earth is ensconced within its own tears, sometimes of joy or sadness, depending on the mood of the observer. Rain is always rain, it is never good rain or bad rain, never a pouring or a trickle; it is the receiver who uses the adjectives to describe it to suit his or her mood or situation.
Thunder rumbles in the sky, like the earth that trembles under a quake. It sends currents of fear in the heart. It is the living spirit that is afraid, the fear of the elemental fury of nature, a fear as old as life itself. When lightning strikes something - a tree or a living thing - it burns, shrivels and dies. When water floods and overflows the banks, it washes away everything in its flow - humans, cattle and trees. When the wind blows with gale force, it uproots trees, razes shacks and throws everything in its path helter-skelter - be it man or beast. We call it the fury of nature, but is it? When a volcano erupts it is not the wrath of the gods, but we say it is. Fear has its own vocabulary. Nature sustains itself in myriad ways; rain or sunshine, flood or drought, quake or volcano, it is nature living, breathing in and breathing out life.