Love Happens in the Rain

Once upon a time, I woke up before dawn to the sound of rain against my barely cracked windows. For a moment I lay there with a nostalgic wee smile on my pillow-creased face, until I realized what that day was and bolted from bed in horror! That was the morning of the Lynchburg Art Festival, an outdoor event with about 300 entrants I was in charge of and had been working on obsessively for a year! We’ll leave that thought dangling because that was the exception.

Normally, a rainy morning is a most wonderful way to awaken and start shaping a new day, a soft morning that deadens lawnmowers and trimmers and invites the gentle sounds and aromas of bacon sizzling in the pan followed by the cracking of eggs and crusty bread springing from the toaster. It might also conjure up a vision of an open book, steam rising from a nearby mug, a soft throw across the knees, or an easel standing ready with canvas and pallet waiting, the smell of oil paints and turpentine.

Other visions creep in. They might include a child happily splashing through a puddle, wet from toe to thigh, with a happy not-so-dry face bobbing up and down under a large umbrella. Or you might envision raindrops dripping from noses mere inches apart, ruined hairdos, mascara running, but smiling lips glowing in the wet non-gloom as they reshape in anticipation of love’s sweet insistent kiss.

And when rain has turned to falling snow, when the pavement is covered in the glittering white circle beneath a streetlight, what could be more exciting than a kiss on nature’s silent, uncluttered stage, snowflakes collecting in your hair or stocking cap, dusting your shoulders and backs, but not your pressed together chests? Oh, you could feel the hearts beating in tandem right through the heavy wool coats.

Love and cheerful abandon in the sunshine are mighty fine in a garden, on the beach, hiking or sailing, or just sharing a park bench. An evening pressed together on a crowded dance floor under dim lights, live music throbbing, can also be magical. But nothing is more memorable than the joining of hands and hearts, wet cheeks sliding along each other when you are caught up in a private sweet storm shared by two, in the rain.