You know that feeling? The one when it’s raining out and you’re tempted to just sit out there, basking in the natural way the water connects with you. The droplets, slipping down your skin, drenching you. A smile escapes your lips; a new found freedom ignites in you as the rain seeps into your clothing, causing it to cling to you. Not a worry in the world, you lay back in the grass as the water falls from the sky. To some the sky may look threatening, but to you it’s nothing but endless possibilities.

To your right a man runs by, holding a newspaper above his head. He doesn’t want to get wet; he’s in a suit. Why is it that society frowns upon the rain? Is it because it can put an end to an outdoor activity? But this man is obviously dressed for work; he must look professional. Some day it will rain, some day we will as lay in the grass watching it pour down.

A little boy peeks his head through a window. The house he lives in is small—no doubt he must have had plans to play outside. His mother comes from behind to comfort him but he remains at the window, starring out waiting for the rain to subside. The glass has water droplets streaming down, contorting his face, making it into some sort of abstract art.

The soothing sound of rain is everywhere. It consumes you as the steady beat as water hits different surfaces around you—asphalt, grass, the roof of your house. The cold, natural water falling from the sky brings relief after the long and hot summer day. You turn your face to the sky, closing your eyes. The thunder comes in a low rumble, soothing you into some sort of lullaby. A car goes by, and even though you expect it to break your trace it doesn’t. Instead it adds to the rhythm that the rain has produced. As the wheels carry the car across the road it drives through puddles, making it a natural symbol in the band of percussion.

Another roll of thunder, but by then you barely even notice; because by then you completely absorbed in the day of rain.