RAIN
Memory, Motion, and the Music of Moisture
Rain doesn’t just fall—it arrives with stories. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection explores how rain evokes memory, nourishes the earth, and invites us into sensory presence and emotional connection.
Outside my kitchen sliding door, gentle rain falls on the deck. I can see the individual drops hitting the rocking chair and bouncing up about an inch before falling again. Interestingly, each drop does only one bounce. Those same drops are falling on the skylight above the stove and again bouncing before settling down on the glass and running down the pane. The sound of it on the skylight is mesmerizing.
The rain is fascinating today, and I wonder where it comes from. Ok. I know it falls from the sky, but I feel that this rain has been on the road and comes from far away.
This rain is not a virga, but I bet it comes close. Virga is rain that falls from the clouds and evaporates before it reaches the ground because the air is so dry that the raindrops dry up. We have been dry here for months. The shrubs and the flower garden show the effects. Even the River Birch is showing signs of stress. Given global warming, I am expecting more of this!
Wind can transport rain over long distances. Perhaps this sweet rain was meant for my cousins in the Midwest. Sorry, cousins, but we need this stuff. The garden is dry, and the watering can will not cut it. I cannot afford a sprinkler system right now, though I would love one.
I have also learned that we could have a “sun shower”. A “sun shower” is rain that has been carried from one location to another so that it falls on a perfectly sunny day in its new location. This could be called “Liquid Sunshine”. A town in Alaska called Ketchikan is famous for this type of rain. I was told they measure this rain with a gauge called “Liquid Sunshine”. I will ask my friends in Alaska to send some of that here.
The slow tap on the skylight could lull one to sleep, but I have work to do. I am making Lemon Squares as a treat for my family. These are delicious, with a cookie-crumb base and a lemon-gooey topping. I like to cut them into bite-sized squares so that they melt away when you toss them into your mouth. A rainy day is good for baking. The sound of the rain keeps you company, and the smell of the cookies as they bake stirs memories.
My mother loved to bake and was quite good at it. All sorts of cookies, cakes, and pies would come from her kitchen. A long time ago, my sister put together a cookbook with all of Mom’s recipes. By now, the corners of that book are bent; every page is dog-eared multiple times, and sticky fingerprints decorate several of the recipes. One of my favorite things about that book is that my granddaughters pull it out to make cookies or yeast rolls. The rolls are delicious!
I am grateful for these memories as I listen to the rain and wait for the cookies to bake.
Want to explore how rain evokes memory and emotional connection? Visit Psychologs’ reflections on rainy days and memory, Green Living Tribe’s guide to the smell of rain and mental health, and NeuroLaunch’s breakdown of rain psychology.
If you’re reflecting on sensory memory, emotional connection, or seasonal rhythms, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support insight, healing, and emotional presence.
By Dr. Gloria K Vanderhorst
