Saturday, April 30, 2016
Since nobody reads blogs anymore, especially when they're kept up as seldom as this one has been, I guess I can just thought-stream about strange things.
It dawned on me the other day how much raw feeling humanity has had for rain; joy, fear, despair. Just how much sheer time humanity has spent thinking about rain.
Early human communities worshipped the sun, knowing it was life-giving, but I think we worried about it less than we did about rain. Food depended on both, but the sun was more predictable. Rain, rain, too much, too little, too early, too late. One crop flourishes, one withers, under the same timing and amount of rainfall.
Floods. Parched earth. Floods followed by parching. Praying and begging for less rain. Praying and begging for more. Finding yourself watching a deluge with cold fear, and then a few months later, day after day of dryness, wishing and hoping for rain. Give us life, don't take life away from us. What can we do to bring the rain? To stop the rain? Prayers and cloud-seeding and human sacrifice to a god who seems angry enough to withhold rain.
It's used as a metaphor for scary, for stressful, for Bad days. Rainy days, versus sunny days.
Don't sorrow for sunshine, learn to dance in the rain!
Sunshine seems benevolent, its dangers known but controllable. Its apparent less danger is only a seeming, but it seems more passive. It's just There, whether clouds mask it or not. Droughts are not thought of as its presence, they are the absence of the clouds and the rain. The sun gets less blame. Or God gets less blame for too much sun, than he gets for too little rain.
Rain gives life, but it's capricious, scary, its ability to kill as obvious, and as unpredictable, as its healing and life-giving powers.
But both of them, the sun and the rain, give both.