To some it means the squelching of boots. To small kids it means a chance to show off their new umbrellas and pretty raincoats. To their mothers it says of forever wet clothes and diseases. To the daddies it means getting stuck in traffic jams and getting late. To the farmer it brings sights of young stalks of green rice slowly raising their heads. To his children it brings hopes of second-servings and maybe a new dress or doll. And to me? To me it brings chances. A chance to wipe away all my mistakes. A chance to eat lunch with my friend by the window of our class and not have to talk to communicate. A chance to lay my head on the cold glass window and watch the great big drops splash. A chance to throw away my umbrella and dance in the rain.
And most importantly to smell the rain.
‘The smell of rain’. Some of you may have been mystified by that imagery. Rain doesn’t smell of anything, right? Wrong. I used to think that it just smelled like wet dirt. But then there is so much more than that. There is the aroma of the earth cooling down. Another one is the whiff of a plant germinating. There is the perfume of the newly-bloomed flower. And there is the scent of hope. It’s beautiful.
Or you can hear the rain. Or see the rain. But you can't be idle. There is a feast for the senses when it rains. I take idyllic strolls after a huge storm. You can sense the improvement in the moods of all those who had been driven to the point of madness by the heat. Although some of you still might still dislike rain, I feel it is the most beautiful thing to experience. Right now while I am waiting for the great black clouds that are floating about to release their burden, those of you who have rain right now throw open your windows. Let in the drops of happiness. Let the smell of earth teach you a little more about life. Let those drops fall into your hands. And most importantly 'Always remember to dance in the rain.' (Holly Jameston)