You would think the rain on this planet is acid the way we all bolt for shelter as soon as the first drops fall. But leather shoes and pristine jackets aside, I suggest that we consider going boldly forth every once in a while into the rain to recover a little sanity and imagination.
Being inundated by a shower is a useful thing, especially if you catch a violent cold that allows you to stay at your rich neighbor’s house for a few days. But aside from getting to know single men in possession of large fortunes (who are thereby in search of a wife), there are other benefits.
When you get out into the rain, for a brief moment, nothing else matters. You can’t take pictures, not if it’s really raining. In fact, you can’t so much as have your phone out. So you’re perfectly cut off from distraction and forced to live in the present. There is nothing that can claim your attention except what’s happening around you—the rain, the leaves bouncing as each drop falls, the rivulets that start to form. You get to experience a little of the joy older generations may have felt, who perhaps knew better how much we need rain for our livelihoods.
It’s a time to stop and breathe. We are always doing something, going somewhere, meeting with someone. While these may be valuable things, we aren’t machines, and we can’t keep going all the time. Let us pause and enjoy what’s happening around us. Like rain. Especially rain in the spring. Rain is beautiful, but it’s even more marvelous when it chivvies winter away, soaking the ground so that the wildflowers come and the world bursts into green.
It’s a sad day when we all hurry through the rain with heads down and umbrellas up. It’s a sign that we are one step further in our dehumanization if we never stop to consider the miracles of nature happening around us. But if, like Guy Montag in Fahrenheit 451, we dare to taste the rain now and then, perhaps we will rediscover something precious:
“I’m still crazy. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it.”
“I don’t think I’d like that,” he said.
“You might if you tried.”
“I never have.”
She licked her lips. “Rain even tastes good.”
“What do you do, go around trying everything once?” he asked.
“Sometimes twice.”