Rain

Rain.  Rain.  Rain.  A dark cloud wafts across the sky, slowly blotting out the sun and warmth.  A frigid breeze grows from a whisper to a howl, anticipating the excitement to come.  People glance upwards fearfully, then hurry indoors.  No one wants to be out in this.  Then, like a wall of water, comes the rain.  It pounds on everything it can reach, soaking the ground into a mush.  The new swamp eagerly absorbs more and more rain water, forming shallow puddles hidden by the grasses, pitfalls for any animal wandering through.  The rain falls heavier and heavier.  Pounding on roofs and roads, sending animals and humans alike scurrying for cover.  Then, in the climactic moments, a bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, immediately followed by the clap of thunder.  Bolt after bolt strikes the earth, exposing image after image of a stark landscape in grays and whites.  Another bolt, longer-lived than before, streaks between the clouds, lasting for so long that humans can momentarily see the entire scene brilliantly illuminated in color.  No one moves.  The area is silent in the wake of the deafening crash of thunder.
Out on the sidewalk, a young child in neon yellow rain boots breaks the silence, splashing delightedly in puddles and shrieking with delight.

Rain can be such a cleansing phenomenon.  It leaves the world fresh and new, washing away the old dirt, washing in the new.  The scent of the world is completely new, a fresh and clean smell.  And everything is sparkling and revitalized (thank you to a friend for the synonyms), with the newly emerged sunlight glinting off of everything, creating a mosaic of natural beauty.
I love rain.

I'm grateful for pouring rain that energizes (or re-energizes) the world when it's starting to feel old.