When you go almost three weeks without rain, you welcome the first few drops of a thunderstorm with open arms. Imagining that many days without a bath helps you feel the comfort a cleansing downpour must be to the dry ground. With rain finally in our forecast, we watched for darkening clouds all morning. By late afternoon, the smell of rain filled the air and warned us the storm was close. An hour later we noticed sheets of water pelting the ridges across the river and moving our way. A lightning strike flashed in the distance, and thunder echoed through the valley below. Shower after shower continued until dark, and we savored every drop.
What is the smell of rain? I liken it to the sweet scent of a baby after its bath. Light and pure. The sound of raindrops hitting the roof just as soothing, like the baby’s tiny hand reaching for your finger and wrapping around it, seeking security.
With a whole week now of liquid sunshine across the southeast, how would you describe the smell of rain?
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