always make me think of Africa. Which is ironic, really, because when I lived there, it hardly ever rained. Like, severe drought for a year and a half, but still…
Maybe it’s the way rain brings relief from the Mississippi heat or the way it builds up, heavy with humidity until it pours out hard and fast and then disappears completely. I don’t know, but….
I really love nothing more than a hot cup of something (coffee or chai, depending on how “homesick” I am) and a window to a world that is wet and green and refreshed.
Maybe it was the drought that made me appreciate the rain because until I experienced “a dry and weary land where there is no water,” I always thought that verse from Psalms was a bit redundant. Not anymore.