Despite our tendency to define everything in catastrophic terms (“Thunderstorms and rain today,” as the forecasters say, taking off their smiley face and putting on the unhappy mask) there may be nothing more delightful in the hot summer than awakening to the first sounds of a heavy rain.
It’s time to stop demonizing everything but moderate temps and sunny days and recognize there is an important reason here in midsummer we are still surrounded by greenery.
That would be rain.
It has been a wonderful summer in terms of rain.
Since June, the Chicago area is about 8 inches ahead of its long-term rain averages. That spells back yards to die for, with bold tiger lilies fairly exploding into the air, peaches worth raving about and, very soon, tomatoes that will be good enough to eat right off the vine, perhaps with a little salt.
Watch the robins. They scout, tilt their heads this way and that and then nail a fat worm that has been drawn to the surface by the rainfall. It’s better than a public television nature special.
Think back to the hot, dry summers of the last couple of years. Who wants to sit in a back yard or a park that is the color of a wheat cracker? What glory is there in running your feet through fescue that has the consistency of shredded wheat or, later in the season, steel wool?
Of course we could all just water everything in dry spells, but that seems such a waste of a precious resource. It’s better to have all this water delivered as a gift, especially early on a hot day.
Maybe there will be some thunder and an innocent bolt of lightning. (There are such things, you know? Not all lightning causes havoc or hits a golfer and ends up on the news. What about innocent lightning? No one ever does news stories about lightning that doesn’t hit something. The news media are so negative!)
Maybe there will be rivers rushing down the streets and all manner of detritus surfing on a rainstorm’s curbside bow wave. It makes you want to put the Beach Boys on the iPod and just sit there and watch the unexpected sport of refuse surfing as it moves down the street, sewer-bound for sure.
Maybe you will just go out into the yard or into a park or any green space and let it wash and shower you the way it washes and showers everything else in nature. That would be good for the hair, and good for the soul, assuming you recognize it’s not a catastrophe.
It’s just rain.
