Ever since i left New England, i’ve loved the rain. since i’ve known dry alpine air, and chaffed desert plains i’ve loved the rain. On this hot, caribbean island, where the land is hard and impenetrable from months of baking sun, i’ve longed for the heavy clouds that bring the sound of rain to my rooftop.
It came this morning, first as little patters, slowly building into a great crescendo of thunderous drops all around. Now the rain has receded into slow drip-drops so i can hear the kerplunk of each heavy fall on the giant jungle leaves.
Then i think about the folks in Haiti and i am sad. my pleasure, their pain.
And still i will enjoy the rain. and love the people all the same.
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