There is a feeling of electric, charged excitement to swimming in a heavy rain. It is a step into the fantastic that one may only experience a handful of times in a life span. It is as elusive as the borders and boundaries between sunshine and cloud shadows. It’s like the might of the ocean in your backyard. Your pool becomes a portal to a more magical world. Every fat, swollen raindrop that impacts the surface becomes an echo, a tiny bass drum. Ten thousand vibrations all at once until it quivers the very innermost parts of you. A favorite comic and movie of mine once said that God is in the rain. I can believe it. Sitting in the midst of the downpour, it is a loud, thunderous voice, a battlecry on all things mundane and underappreciated. There is joy in the transformation of the ordinary into the extraordinary. It’s an amazement, this feeling of supercharged glory that once fueled the rituals of ancient times, the Earth as an indomitable, unconquerable spirit. The rain begins to slow and wilt and die, but in it’s place is a rainbow of multicolored enlightenment.