During a long hot summer, where the sun won't forgive for weeks at a time, the rain is a welcome guest.

A gray sky spreads over the foreseeable world, textured with white fluffy puffs. Soft gray light spills through windows and doorways in geometrically perfect rays, shading carpets and furniture.

The thickness in the air increases, weighing down the world. The wind stops blowing and everything comes into a new focus, colors of green and yellow and brown pop against the gray. Everything is still.

A few scattered thin lines of water begin the percussive performance on the earth. The drops become fatter and faster as more and more join, liquidy and hard. The roof above and the windows become drums for the precipitation to play on. The tapping of the rain echoes loudly inside, bouncing off tables, couches, beds. The perfect rays dance and shake with the interruption of drops, casting moving shadows onto picture frames and paintings.

The rhythm is random yet easy to follow. It is calming, soothing. It causes you to pause a moment and connect yourself with the wet disruption of the day.

The intermission of a rain storm between hot summer days is a reminder from the universe to slow down. The gloom and gray is a comforting sign, telling us to get into sweatpants, make a cup of tea and burrow on a couch with a warm fuzzy blanket and a new book. The universe knows when we are pushing ourselves too far and too much, and the breath of rain might come just in time before we reach our breaking point. Listen to the rain, appreciate the thought behind it, and evaluate the speed of your life in that exact moment. Even if it's just for a few minutes, take a break to listen and look at the rain.