Like tears from crying . . .

I am sitting at an open window, a lite breeze skimming over my skin. Outside the window a gentle, steady rain is falling. The rain is pulling from the earth a smell of spring dirt and wet pine needles. There is the fuzzy sound of droplets bouncing off the grass, off the fence, off the house. As the trees sway in the gentle wind, a new layer combines with the rest to create a thicker cushion of sound.

There is something to be said for the calming nature of rain, the soothing effect it has on my mind, my soul and my brain.
Like tears from crying, there is a release in the falling of rain, the accumulation and purging of precipitation.

I am grateful for this rain, for the comfort, calm and peace I find in its drops.