When it rains in the morning, I think of the yard cats who will run away from the patio into the rain when I round the corner of the house with their daily food and water; of the kids standing at bus stops waiting for their rides to school; of those with regular jobs who have to be extra careful (and often aren’t) on their way into work.
When it rains in mid-day, I think of the errands I need to do and the assignments that will be impacted by the changes to traffic and whether I need to change my clothes to avoid showing up wet; of the people stuck inside, looking out and remembering playing in the rain as children.
When it rains during rush hour, I think of those who may not make it home on time – or at all – because the roads are more treacherous to drive when they are wet and far too few people drive accordingly; of the construction zones around town and whether the workers there will pack it in for the night or keep working despite the rain; of the parents struggling to pick up their kids or take them to after-school events.
When it rains at night after I am home from my assignments or other travels and my wife is home from work, I am happy to hear the sounds and know that some of the soot, grime, and crud of the day is being dissolved and washed away; to relax and enjoy my safe, warm, love-filled home.
When it rains late at night, I sleep.
Until the thunder and lightning starts…