Sounds of home

I’ve always thought that the hardest things happen on the most beautiful days, when the sun is shining warm on your shoulders. But I also think some of the most beautiful moments happen in the rain. Growing up, I’ve spent countless hours sitting on my front porch listening to the rain. I’ve been lulled to sleep by the sound of a summer rain on a tent time and time again, and taken hundreds of barefoot walks after the rain stops. Even now, I’m sitting by my open window, listening to the thunder, and breathing in the sweet clean air that only comes with a good rain. There is something incredibly soothing and rejuvenating about rain. It washes away all the dust that has been gathering, all the stale air that can fill the soul. And after the rain, the world feels ever so slightly newer, like the earth took a giant breath and then relaxed again.

This week I’ve needed the rain more than ever. I’ve needed the thunder. I’ve needed the chance to stop and regroup, to refocus. To remember exactly what matters in this crazy world. A family emergency brought me back to Tennessee for the week. While everything seems to be turning out alright for now, it’s been more than enough to remind me how quickly the world can change on a sunny day. It also makes it a hell of a lot easier to forget all the silly little stresses of a daily routine and to put the world on hold for a minute to listen to the rain. In a few days, I’ll head back to London, but I like to think I’m taking a little bit of the Tennessee rain with me.