It's an evocative sensation that culminates in a scent so distinctive, it could only be Summer Rain. You know how it goes, a few days of baking hot sun, a muggy moment before you sense the air is heavy, dense, ready to burst, the skies darken to a rich almost purple grey, and then at first a few plump fat drops, hitting the ground with distinct individual splashes. Each drop a small explosion, a micro eruption kicking up the soil and dust on the road, liberating that sweet sweet smell of summer.
I stood at the door, open, warm, eyes closed, sucking in lungfulls of air through my nose, a smell rich with memories, images of childhood and dreams of the future. Desperate to go out and run...but everyone too busy with their lives and I'm too tired and scared to go alone. An early night to bed, window open, listening to the rain...the summer rain.
Rain in Summer - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
How beautiful is the rain
After the dust and heat
In the broad and fiery street
In the narrow lane
How beautiful is the rain
How it clatters along the roofs
Like a the tramp on hoofs
How it gushes and struggles out
From the throat of the overflowing spout
Across the window-pane
It pours and pours
And swift and wide
With a muddy tide
Like a river down the gutter roars
The rain, the welcome summer rain!
Summer Rain - My Future Lies
