I Love The Sound of the Rain

Near summer rain in Northeastern Iowa

Near summer rain in Northeastern Iowa

This morning I was gently awakened by the sound of rain. It’s not a sound I’m used to though.

I was awakened by the sound of a thirsty earth, gratefully receiving the life giving water. The sound of renewal and replenishment. The sound of a near summer shower promising growth, and green, and vitality. The sound of the natural rhythms of Pachamama, Gaia, Earth Mother.

In recent years, I have lived in Southern California, and most recently, Central Florida. Densely populated areas, especially compared to where I am now in rural Iowa.

I returned to this place, short hours from where I was born and raised, for a graduation, a community song circle, and spreading music medicine.

This is my first morning here without the rest of my live in family, who returned to Florida while I continue my sacred work here. This first morning, and a greeting of rain falling the way it is meant to.

You see, in the hustle and bustle of urban life I have grown accustomed to, rain does not sound like it did this morning.

In Florida, it rains often. A welcome thing after living in drought stricken California for two years. But that rain is accompanied by the sound of hundreds, thousands of car tires on wet pavement. It’s like a hackle raising hiss foretelling danger. Unnatural white noise…a reminder of the triumphs of modern civilization (and the decimation of natural spaces).

Here in my refuge, staying with good friends, things are as they should be. Insects buzz, birds sing, frogs call, and the sound of rain is peaceful, gentle, and comforting.

Now I return to rocking slowly on a porch swing, contently wrapped in nature’s sound bath, with deep gratitude.