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Of rain and re-birth

This one’s for the Migraine Warriors.

Oh, how I used to adore the rain.

Lush, northern, west-coast rainforest. Cloaked in mist and deep peaty smells. Fiddleheads and towering Douglas Fir. Raincoats and boots, exploring and sniffing.

Topical downpours gushing down massive canopies, rivulets off banana leaves and flower petals. Warm and wet, filling flip flops, as we squealed into a restaurant, hand in hand, to watch old movies on a wall and drink warm beer.

Torrential sheets, streaming from a towering thunderhead, washing over my upturned face, pouring down arms and out turned hands. On the bow of a sailboat, adrift on the equator, covered in soap and tears, screaming and dancing, “Thank you!” for a deluge from the heavens.

Hurricane rain, slashing sideways on the windows and running down the walls from window-seams, as we giggle at midnight. Throwing towels on the floor to stop our bedroom from flooding, as the dog barks and chases her tail on the bed, in sheer joy.

Quiet sprinkles, eyes twinkling, waist deep in a river. Singing made up songs to entice the trout to my fly.

Howling and heckling with you, as massive drops bounce off the surface of the sea. We surf with close friends as warm waves roll in, ocean warmer than air, hazy mist in our own dream.

Waking in the night, the first rain in 6 months, massive tears from heaven hitting the gasping land, hidden plants shuddering with joy. Running naked in the dark, to dance on the beach, celebrating the break of the drought. The land drinking feverishly.

These days I sigh, as I check the forecast, rain looming on the horizon.

My spirit collapses inward, as the vice grows tighter. Heart pulsing in my throat, stomach heaving. Long restless nights, ice pack deliveries, blurry eyes and low light movies, half watched, with one eye open.

Murmuring in my ear, books on repeat, as I miss chapters. Mind slow as molasses. Dog curled butt to butt, with propped head and worried eyes.

Body stiff and sore with no movement. Loving texts, message check-ins. Mind full of clouds, no thoughts, just breath. We all wait.

Then I roll over and begin to stretch, and hope. I walk through memories, or the previous world of taste and smells. My mind slowly bubbles to the surface of a glowing new world. I dream of movement and air searing my lungs with possibility. Of joy and sun and water and clear star studded skies.

You will know when I am back from my inward journey, eyes aglow, heart afire, for a few more days.

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