I Love the Rain

This morning, I sat on my covered patio during a rain shower. It was that kind of rain that gently soaks the earth and makes everything smell fresh and clean. It's the kind of rain that whispers in the air and ebbs and flows as the clouds roll across the sky -- softly falling on the earth like sparkling jewels, trickling from the eaves and sprinkling through the leaves of my sturdy oak trees and sometimes sweeping a light mist across the patio to dampen my cheek.  The deep gurgling of the swimming pool across the yard joined nature's orchestra and filled my senses with a symphony of sound: the sound of this rain-gift caressing the earth with her drip-drop song.


Curiously, I slipped the cochlear implant coil from my head -- that odd little magnet that connects my Borg parts -- and I listened intently for the sounds of the rain -- the depth of sound that had flooded my ears was gone. My natural hearing is slipping away.

Then I touched the magnet back to my head and marveled again at the miracle of technology that hears for me when my ears cannot.

I love the rain.