• It is raining again. I can hear the pattering of the rain drops as they hit my roof, my walls, the ground, pretty much anything they can reach. It sounds so peaceful, like a lullaby, and I am tempted to fall asleep. As I lay there being carried off by the soothing sound, sudden booming startles me back awake. The thunder rolls on for several seconds, making pictures shake in their frames. It comes declaring its presence, exploding its sound for miles around. Eventually, the sound of thunder joins its brother the rain in becoming another soothing song. Even the wind sings along, as it winds its way through the sleeping town. Over all of them, though, the rain is the one that dominates my ears, calming me yet keeping me alert at the same time. These combined songs make a melody that beckons me both to relax and sleep to its lullaby, or dance in its beauty to the beat it provides for me. Both promise rewards but only one can I choose. The pull of the sizzling rain is too much, and I find myself reaching for my door.

    This constant cascading of sound prompts me to look outside and see the storm which has brought forth all of these sounds, so I make my way outside on to the porch. As I open my door, there is a curtain of water looming at the edge of the concrete rectangle, nearly obscuring any trace of my front yard or any other sight I would normally see when no storm was present. Droplets of water cling to the porch railing and fall from the edge of the roof, splashing on the ground, making it even wetter. The water has spread into the enclosure, thrown there by the wind it would seem. The gray atmosphere is suddenly broken by a flash of light that illuminates every corner of the porch, revealing little things hidden in the darkness, like my car and neighboring houses. It only lasts for a brief moment, however, before disappearing completely, leaving everything in shadows again. Somehow, it seems darker now than it did before the lighting struck, and it takes a moment for everything to adjust back to its peace from before. Looking around, I begin to realize that I can see more than just the gloom; I can see the effects of the copious amounts of water. It pools in dips in the yard, and runs in little streams along the declining driveway. Water covers everything I am able to see, and makes it its playground.

    As I sit enjoying the darkness and the sound of the storm, the chill of the wind makes me pull my jacket tighter around me. It is not what I would call cold, but it is enough to make me almost abandon the serenity for the warmth of inside. But I choose instead to sit and pull one of the chairs near enough to the railing to get a better view but not get directly rained on. The metal of the chair is cold in my hand, but soon warms up as I sit in it. I reach a hand out and feel the damp wood of the porch railing. It seems soft, yet still as firm as ever, and smells of its dampness but with a rich overtone. The raindrops pelt my exposed hand in little dives, attempting to cover it in their wetness like they have the rest of my world. Though it is a cool rain, it invites me to stay and enjoy its playful splashing. The smell of the storm surrounds me as I lean back in my chair, wiping my hand off on the sleeve of my jacket. I have never been sure what to call that musky scent, though I have been told it is really ozone, but that just doesn't seem mystical enough to name something so deep and pervading that I can almost taste it. Other than this almost magical incense, no other smell lingers through the air. It is all dampened down by this storm that has taken over. This storm fills all of my senses and overwhelms me with its embrace, compelling me inside to fall asleep to its never-ending lullaby.