Rain

Once the initial shock of my circumstances wore off, I wanted to call my mom.

Rain pounded against the roof, and I could hear it through the ceiling.

The foundation of the house shook, and the walls creaked with the howling winds.

I reached for my purse, which had been flung over the arm of the sofa, and grabbed my cellphone.

You can surrender to the rhythm that has kept life thriving on Earth since the beginning.

Rain is one of the most soothing phenomena in nature, and the reasons for this go deeper than simple preference or habit.

The sound of rain falling produces a consistent white noise that can calm the nervous system and trigger a relaxation response in the brain.

The gentle pitter-patter of drops creates a rhythm that is almost meditative, inviting the mind into a state of peaceful receptivity.

Rain also increases serotonin levels in the brain, a neurotransmitter that helps people feel happier and more at peace.

The rhythm is consistent and predictable, which the nervous system interprets as safe.

When your brain perceives safety, it can lower its defenses and allow true rest.

You are part of this cycle, too.

All year we've battled through it.

Rain, four hoses in one day, 11 degrees, feels like five, but now the sun is out.

The bars are overflowing, boys.

I don't know about you, but this right now is what we've trained for.

Jim had a good cut, fouled it straight back.

Rain now coming down pretty good.

Pitch to Davenport, fouled to the screen again for strike two.

For those of you who have been listening for a while, now who's right, Lon Simmons or me? [laughs] The one-two pitch from Kenny Holtman, high and outside, almost a wild pitch, as Hunley had to stab it.

Curve ball, popped foul, off to the right on a play, back into the lower deck.

See some good signs weather-wise as over the left field fence it appears to be brighter.

Rain has almost stopped now and the wind is not as, as bad as it was a few moments ago.

Three-two pitch.

Ellen's desk glowed with LED jitter, walkie charging silently.

Rain pelted hard enough on the roof you'd think the whole building meant to collapse.

I drifted through the darkened hallways, every sense tuned to the uneasy way sound seemed to arrive a half moment delayed, like my footsteps weren't quite my own.

My phone buzzed, an alert from town security.

License zero zero nine three three five zero.

Because I wasn't sure anymore that anyone else could, or if the station had its way, ever would.

Rain hammered the town's ceiling to floor, flattening sound, tamping the world to ash and silver.

Everything changed the moment word spread that Mrs. Winslow's people had stormed the center.

What if it's stronger than we are?" I pushed the anxiety down, building my answer on the only bedrock I had left.

"Then the least we can do is leave a new mark, one that doesn't erase." Rain hammered the thin roof, a relentless overlapping knock.

Each of us drifted into wary silence, lost in the mechanical ritual of securing journals, checking locks, preparing dry bags, and charging every remaining battery.

Survival, shorn of certainty or comfort, left nothing but the continuity of action.

"If we're not back by first light, lock every hatch and transmit everything." Then joined the others outside, just short of the northern cave entrance.

Low tide revealed the maw's true extent, a jagged arch of wet stone, its teeth wound with kelp and bristling mussel shells.

Rain battered the ledge above, sending runnels of black water down, striping our boots, dampening every last dry inch of gear.

The bell in its crate felt both weightless and immovable.

So I think that the rains that we had were kind of like typhoon volume of rain, but we didn't get the winds, which was kind of a bit odd.

It was definitely...

Rain has been the least of our concern in Kumamoto.

Right.

Okay.

It's the only way to live in cars

Rain continues to fall in much of the south and, uh, encroaching into the central part of the province, which is, uh, not great for harvest.

Yesterday, beautiful harvest day yesterday.

I was actually surprised at how bad the mosquitoes were.