The Magick of Rain | Photo by HDC Photographer (Creative Commons)
Did you ever find yourself in a moment where you knew magick was at work? I had just sat down to write in my Book of Shadows when I heard the thunder. Where I live, thunder is extremely rare. It can go nine months without a drop of rain and even when it does rain, it is almost never accompanied by thunder. I don’t think I’ve witnessed a real thunderstorm here in the last two years at least.
At the first distant rumble the cat woke up and looked out the window with worry in her eyes. She would look outside and then back at me for reassurance. She is 2 years old. This was probably the first thunder she ever experienced.
Moments later the sky opened up. The rain was loud and at first I thought it was hailing. When I stepped outside I realized the droplets were not ice, but they were huge. The rain was cool. It contrasted starkly with the still warm terracotta pavers. I walked around the house to the backyard and stepped barefoot into the grass. It was raining harder now water was saturating my hair and running down my face.
I opened my arms and closed my eyes. The sun was still out to the west and I could feel the heat of it on my back. I inhaled but not too deeply. I wasn’t looking for oxygen, I was trying to identify the scents of my yard, intensified by the rain. I could smell the water and the grass of course. Beyond that was the unmistakably sweet odor of lavender. I knew the plants were just 15 feet to the south of where I was standing. Still, it was surprising how fragrant they became when touched by the rain.
The warm sun to on my back began to fade as the clouds took over. Even with my eyes closed I could tell it had gotten darker in that moment. I breathed in again. It was faint but I could identify the wild anise that grows at the back of my yard. The flowers are in full bloom this time of year. If I were standing closer to them they would certainly overwhelm the other fragrances. From where I was standing there was just a trace of sweet licorice.
I opened my eyes and looked up, taking a deep breath this time. I thanked God for his generous gift of rain. I thought about how, in other regions, it is taken for granted; considered an inconvenience. As I turned to walk back to the house the rain slowed noticeably and the western sun returned. Just like that, the moment was over.
