Ripples From the Rain: Reflections on Summer Storms and Inner Space

I have always loved the sun.
Long, hot summer days feel like home to me.

During the endless winter months here in the high desert, I find myself yearning for that steady warmth, quietly humming Ben Harper’s “She’s Only Happy in the Sun.”
It feels true in my bones: I could live in perpetual summer and be content.

Yet something magical happens when the spring and early summer rains finally arrive.
Like a child, I’m filled with delight.
Thunderstorms roll across the sky, shaking the walls and rattling the windows with their deep, drumming voice.
I could watch the rain fall in silver sheets for hours — the gutters overflowing, the earth drinking deeply.

I remember the first summer in our new home as a blended family.
The sky opened up, and the rain came down in earnest.
The kids burst outside, laughter ringing through the yard as they danced barefoot, clothes soaked and hearts light.
I watched them, smiling — grateful for this messy, beautiful life.

There was also the night I found myself “trapped” in my car on a solo trip through the desert, rain hammering the windshield, wind howling so fiercely I wondered if I might be swept away in a flash flood.
Yet when dawn came, the world had softened.
The desert smelled of sage and wet earth, and silence hung in the air — the kind of silence you can feel in your chest.
There is something sacred about the way the earth smells after rain; it feels like forgiveness, like renewal.

One rainy morning, standing outside my school, I noticed something simple yet profound.
Raindrops fell onto the sidewalk, gathering in small puddles and large ones.
The same raindrop would land — and the size of the ripple depended entirely on the size of the puddle.
Small puddles made small ripples.
Large puddles let the ripple stretch farther, wider, softer.

It made me wonder about the storms and blessings that arrive in my own life.
Do I offer them only a tight, guarded space — or do I allow them to echo and transform me?
The ripple will always take up the space we give it.

In the quiet after the rain, there’s always an invitation: to open, to soften, to let what comes create something beautiful in us.

Whether sun or storm, it’s all part of this untamed journey — the wild, wide-hearted life we’re here to live.

Next time the rain comes, step outside and meet it.
Lift your face to the sky, catch the raindrops on your tongue, and let them wash away what no longer serves you.
Feel the wild, playful freedom of that moment — and let it remind you of the untamed spirit still alive within you.