Rain

                   Originally, I wrote this piece as my Vignette. I ended up with a very distinct memory of this occurring so I was able to add imagery and description. I wanted to lead the reader through the memory of watching and walking in the rain with me. I didn’t simply want to show or tell the reader, I wanted them to experience it with me.

Rain

                Pitter patter. Pitter patter. Drip. Drip. Drip. I woke to the sound of the rain bouncing off the roof above my head. With the covers pulled tightly under my chin, I lay cuddled in my bed. As each drop hit, I would try to imagine the journey it had taken when it had been dropped from the clouds to free fall to the earth below. I would dream up stories of where it had come from and where it would go from here. Would it stream through the gutters and flow into the creek where a thirsty deer will one day drink. Or would take a path that would one day lead it to the ocean where the dolphins swim. Story after story, I would dream to the sound of the rain the roof.

                After some time, my imagination ran dry. It yearned not only to hear the rain but see it too. I pulled the covers back and felt the chill of the morning on my skin as I crept to my blinds. When pulled back the white curtain that barred my way, the pitter patter of the rain came to life before my eyes. I sat and watched the raindrops roll like unwiped tears down, down, down my window. I wondered if the clouds were crying tears of joy or tears of sadness. Regardless, they continued to fall. The wind would howl through the trees bending branches and sending bullets of rain through the air. I could watch for hours and never get tired, yet the sound of the rain was still my favorite.

                 I yearned to hear the whispers of the rain. The real rain. I pulled on a pair water resistant sweat pants and my sister’s red rain boots. After a bit of searching through the overstuffed coat closet, I found my blue rain coat and pink umbrella. “I'm going to go walk in the rain,” I called as I stepped out the door. On the front step I took a deep breathe, there is something fresh about the air as it rains. I filled my lungs to the brim and slowly exhaled as I took my first step into the rain. The rain was no longer simply falling, it was dancing all around me. It danced to its own music that it created as it hit the ground. Pitter patter. Pitter patter. Drip. Drip. Drip.