rain

"I can't stand the rain/ Against my window." So sang Ann Peebles back in the day, so sang Tim Love last night with the Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love. On the other hand, I love the sound of rain, I love the sound of driving on a highway in a steady rain. Not a gully-washer, nor a light drizzle that makes the windshield wipers scrape, but a steady, drenching wash of water.
Today was a rainy day in Georgia and it was a rainy day in South Carolina as well. I had intended to go over to Beaufort to visit my ailing father in the morning. Time ticked away and I was still at home after noon. Then the postman delivered a big envelope from my youngest brother and the letter had a message for our father. Finally, motivation to get me out of the house! Northward I drove, with the rain beginning as soon as I hit the highway. Big lovely drops of rain, falling out of the sky, falling on the rivers and creeks and marshes, sweetening the air, knocking out the dust. Ahhhh...
I had a really good visit with Daddy and his family, even discussing the rain at one point and how much he and I both enjoyed driving in it. Not in town, mind you, where folks with licenses from Cracker Jacks feel free to get out and muck up the roads every time precipitation occurs. No. We like driving on the highway, accompanied by the wooshing sound of rubber on wet pavement, the "tlok tlok" of windshield wipers keeping time with the tunes on the radio, the gentle drumming on the roof of the car.
On the drive back to Savannah, the rain commenced again as soon as I was back on the highway. Nice! With dusk settling down around me, I saw the many slender fingers of the fog reaching out of the rivers and creeks and marshes, reaching for the sky, reaching for the soft dark underbellies of the clouds. What an incredible view: water, water, above and below and all around.