Rain. It always gives me a feeling of warmth. To sit at my desk writing, occasionally glancing out my window at the rain when it begins to come down especially hard, or blows against the sill. Staring out the window as the car weaves through dripping traffic, or glides down a country road past rolling cornfields. To take a walk and listen to the quietness as the rain falls gently around me, or stand, awestruck, below a tree as torrents pour down from the heavens. Rain. It puts one in a mellow-dramatic mood. Like now. Curled up on a couch at work, too sick to help finish the cleanup, listening to the cry of a red-wing black bird while I type, occasionally glancing out the window at the damp world. Rain. It does that to you.

　

"For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:" Isaiah 55:10