But Oh, How I Do Love The Rain
9-10-22
September greetings from my home.
I’m looking out of my kitchen window at a dampened canopy. The leaves are hanging heavy on their branches with water droplets still collecting their way towards a pointed descent. It finally rained last night and is supposed to continue into today, though this is southern California, and water from on high is the scarcity of our age, so I am skeptical about any more than we’ve already accrued.
There is a palpable feeling attached to rain here in Los Angeles, and I am certain that this feeling exists on a spectrum of sorts, depending on where, who and when the question is being asked. For some, rain in LA means inconvenience; traffic, flooding, mudslides, or god forbid, having to postpone your “hike” up Runyon Canyon. Those who would find the fly in this latte wouldn’t be entirely wrong in feeling a pang of disappointment, we are sort of world renowned for our weather and how reliably sunny it is so much of the year. But growing up here I’ve come to find a deep joy in the feeling attached to watching the sky go grey and dark, and seeing people scurry indoors for cover once the water starts to fall.
The smell, the feeling of surrender that any plans we may have had outdoors are likely thwarted, and the hum and rattle of the drops pelting the roof - it all makes for a visceral experience unlike any other. And yet so common, so mundane, it’s only rain, yet it feels like some kind of cosmic blessing. I suppose those of you reading this who come from places where you see it all too often and/or god forbid get too much of it, are thinking my praise of rain is sort of ridiculous. But where I am from and where I still live, water is becoming so scarce that it really isn’t a stretch to imagine a not too distant future where we are fighting with one another for it. Though I certainly hope that isn’t in our trajectory.
Anyway, I guess I’m feeling a deep gratitude for having this break from our tour and that it’s happening in concert with some rare atmospheric circumstances here in California. I hope you are doing well and feeling loved today and I so look forward to seeing you all in just a couple of weeks for the last round of shows for this year.
Peace,
-Brandon
Beautiful! I love this… your voice is so calming. Soothing. This is a wonderful dedication to the reign of rain.
I myself, bring from a quite rainy city. I’m still thrilled today by the joys of rain. It’s cleaning of the air. Is like a cleansing of the soul and spirit.
A glorious day to you sunshine superstar!
As a Pacific Northwest girl born and raised, I absolutely resonate with your praise and admiration of the rain and its beautiful effects on nature. I come from Olympia, west of the Cascade mountain range, and we get rain for something like nine months of the year. All this rain is why there's so much greenery, forests, and other lush natural beauty all across this side of the state (including the Hoh rainforest, which if I remember correctly is one of the world's *only* temperate rainforests). Everyone in Olympia and the surrounding areas has a rain jacket and a pair of rubber boots. We all fall asleep to the sound of rain at night. I'm currently living in a place East of the Cascades where the mountains block the rain clouds, so I play rain sounds on my phone instead. Rain is comforting, and a reminder of home and my roots.
It's hard for me to imagine what it's like to live in a place like southern California where rain can be so rare. Like you, I sure hope it never gets to a point where people have to fight over it, which is another reason why we should take climate change and global warming seriously!! Droughts are scary!
Thank you as always for this beautiful little story, and for reading it to us too. Your voice always soothes me- singing or speaking it makes me happy 💖 hope you are enjoying some nice time off to relax and recharge before the last leg of the tour.
Sending all the hugs to you. 💖