I’m yet to fully discern what lies behind my adoration / obsession with rain, listening to the rain: basically doing anything in the rain. All I know is that I rarely feel so at peace with the Cosmos as when listening to rain or being in the rain. There are two earliest recollections of rain of which I’m aware at this stage.
I have one of lying in my bed at night when young listening to the rain in the dark for what seemed like hours, floating away on the sound, merging with the rain. Somehow I feel a sense of innocence and purity when I recall this experience.
The other is of sitting under a Willow Tree by the lake near my home on an afternoon, simply watching the rain fall onto the surface of the lake, listening to the symphony of tiny splashes, eventually building up to a fair crescendo as the rain got heavier. I remember the light breeze and fresh smell I’ve come to appreciate like few others. I was to have an early sexual experience in that same spot a few years later, in the rain, partially chosen because of the sense of safety I’d felt there on several occasions, and because we both liked the area. It was one of my few early experiences where I felt some emotional connection to the girl I was with, making it something more than just “getting it”…Not so innocent, but still something potent.