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Essay on Rainy Season

Here we have shared the Essay on Rainy Season in detail so you can use it in your exam or assignment of 150, 250, 400, 500, or 1000 words.

You can use this Essay on Rainy Season in any assignment or project whether you are in school (class 10th or 12th), college, or preparing for answer writing in competitive exams. 

Topics covered in this article.

Essay on Rainy Season in 150 words

Essay on rainy season in 250-300 words, essay on rainy season in 500-1000 words.

The rainy season, also known as the monsoon season, brings much-needed rainfall to a region. It revitalizes nature, replenishes water bodies, and nourishes the earth. The dark clouds, the sound of raindrops, and the earthy fragrance create a soothing ambiance. The rainy season has its challenges, such as flooding, but it also holds beauty and joy. The lush greenery, blooming flowers, and vibrant landscapes make it a captivating time to explore nature. People enjoy the cool weather and engage in activities like dancing in the rain. The rainy season is significant culturally and socially, with festivals marking its arrival. Farmers eagerly anticipate it for their crops and livelihoods. In conclusion, the rainy season brings the gift of rain, revitalizing the environment and bringing joy to people’s lives. It is a time of growth, renewal, and cultural festivities, reminding us of the beauty and abundance of nature.

The rainy season, also known as the monsoon season, is a period of the year when a region experiences significant rainfall. It is a time of rejuvenation and transformation in nature. The rainy season brings relief from the scorching heat of summer and replenishes water bodies, nourishing the earth and supporting the growth of plants and crops.

During the rainy season, the sky becomes overcast with dark clouds, and rain showers provide much-needed moisture to the parched land. The sound of raindrops and the earthy fragrance in the air create a soothing ambiance. Rivers and lakes fill up, revitalizing aquatic ecosystems and providing water for agriculture and domestic use.

While the rainy season brings its share of challenges such as flooding and transportation disruptions, it also holds beauty and joy. The lush greenery, blooming flowers, and vibrant landscapes make it a captivating time to explore nature. People enjoy the cool weather, indulge in hot beverages, and engage in activities like dancing in the rain or flying kites.

The rainy season also has cultural and social significance in many parts of the world. Festivals and celebrations are organized to mark the arrival of rain, symbolizing renewal and abundance. Farmers eagerly anticipate the rainy season as it is vital for their crops and livelihoods.

In conclusion, the rainy season brings with it the gift of rain, revitalizing the environment and bringing joy to people’s lives. It is a time of growth, rejuvenation, and cultural festivities. While it may present challenges, the rainy season holds a special place in our hearts, reminding us of the beauty and abundance of nature.

Title: The Rainy Season – Nature’s Symphony of Renewal and Transformation

Introduction :

The rainy season, also known as the monsoon season, is a time of significant rainfall that occurs in specific regions of the world. It holds a special place in our lives as it brings relief from the scorching heat of summer, rejuvenates the earth, and creates a unique atmosphere of tranquility and freshness. This essay explores the beauty, benefits, challenges, and cultural significance of the rainy season, highlighting its transformative impact on nature and human experiences.

The Beauty of Rainfall

The arrival of the rainy season is often heralded by dark clouds gathering in the sky, followed by gentle rain showers. The rhythmic sound of raindrops on rooftops and the earthy fragrance that fills the air create a calming and serene environment. The landscape undergoes a remarkable transformation as nature awakens from its dry slumber. Lush greenery blankets the earth, and the vibrant colors of blooming flowers and blossoming trees add a touch of enchantment to the surroundings. The sight of rain cascading from rooftops, forming puddles, and trickling down leaves evokes a sense of wonder and awe. The rainy season paints a vivid picture of nature’s power and beauty.

Environmental Benefits

The rainy season plays a vital role in maintaining ecological balance and supporting diverse ecosystems. The rainfall replenishes water bodies such as rivers, lakes, and reservoirs, ensuring a steady supply of water for drinking, agriculture, and other human needs. Aquatic ecosystems thrive as water levels rise, creating favorable conditions for the survival and reproduction of marine life. The rainfall also recharges groundwater reserves, replenishing underground aquifers that provide a lifeline in times of drought.

Furthermore, the rainy season nourishes the earth, promoting the growth of plants, trees, and crops. The water infiltrates the soil, delivering essential nutrients and minerals to plant roots. Farmers eagerly anticipate the rainy season as it is crucial for their agricultural activities. Crops flourish, fields turn into verdant carpets, and agricultural yields increase, contributing to food security and livelihoods.

Challenges and Disruptions

While the rainy season brings numerous benefits, it also presents challenges and disruptions. Intense rainfall can result in flash floods, causing damage to infrastructure, property, and even loss of life. Erosion of soil, landslides, and mudslides are common occurrences during this period. Transportation and communication systems may be disrupted, affecting daily life and economic activities.

Waterborne diseases pose significant health risks during the rainy season. Contaminated water sources and inadequate sanitation infrastructure can lead to the spread of diseases such as cholera, typhoid, and dengue fever. Mosquito breeding increases in stagnant water, further exacerbating the risk of mosquito-borne diseases.

Cultural Significance and Celebrations

The rainy season holds cultural and social significance in many parts of the world. Communities celebrate the arrival of rain through various festivals and rituals. These celebrations often symbolize renewal, abundance, and gratitude for the life-giving force of water. In India, for example, the festival of Teej is dedicated to the monsoon season, where women dress in colorful attire, sing, and dance to express joy and celebrate the onset of rain.

Human Experiences and Reflections

The rainy season evokes a range of emotions and experiences in individuals. Children joyfully splash in puddles, couples take romantic walks under umbrellas, and families gather indoors to enjoy cozy moments. The cool and refreshing weather invites contemplation and introspection, providing an opportunity for individuals to slow down, reflect, and appreciate the beauty of nature. The rhythm of raindrops can be both soothing and invigorating, inspiring creativity, and fueling a sense of connection with the natural world.

Conclusion :

The rainy season is a time of renewal, transformation, and celebration. It brings beauty, environmental benefits, and challenges, shaping our experiences and connecting us with the rhythms of nature. By embracing its presence and nurturing our relationship with water, we can fully appreciate the gift of the rainy season and its profound impact on our lives and the world around us.

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How to describe rain: Descriptive words and adjectives for different types

There are many different types of rain, so it makes sense that we would have a lot of vocabulary to describe rain.

Here we’ll look at some wonderful descriptive words for rain, from adjectives to verbs to idioms. Get inspired to describe rain according to how it looks, sounds and smells, or just express in basic terms what the weather is like today.

Words to describe rain

You may wish to describe rain in a very practical way. For example, if you are going outside in this weather, you need to know whether to take an umbrella, or perhaps consider catching a bus instead of walking.

See also: Whether vs if

However, there are other situations when you may need a more poetic way to describe rain, focusing not just on how much of it there is, but how it looks, smells or sounds.

So, we’re going to begin with some common idioms and phrases to describe rain in everyday conversation. Then, we will cover some more descriptive words for rain, for those who wish to explore other aspects of it.

How to describe rain falling

The following descriptive words for rain are grouped according to the type of rain that they describe, from light to heavy.

Describing light rain

Drizzle is a steady but very light rain, almost mist-like. ‘Drizzle’ can be a noun or a verb, and you may use ‘drizzly’ as an adjective for rain like this.

When it is spitting, the rain is falling quite slowly and gently. Often it starts spitting and then turns into heavier rain.

A shower is a quick burst of fairly light rain. You might have heard of April showers, which are characteristic of spring weather. We have more idioms about spring here.

Describing heavy rain

Pouring (down).

You can say ‘it’s pouring’ or ‘it’s pouring down’ when the rain is steady and heavy. This description of rain is used in the nursery rhyme, It’s Raining, It’s Pouring .

Also featuring the word ‘pour’, a downpour is a short but sudden burst of heavy rain.

Bucketing down / raining buckets

‘Bucketing down’ and ‘raining buckets’ both describe heavy and persistent rain.

Tipping (it) down

This is a primarily British expression for heavy rain.

Chucking it down

Here’s another phrase to describe heavy rain, again usually heard in the UK.

Pissing (it) down

Why do the British have so many ways to talk about bad weather?! This one is rude slang, so be careful how you use it. You should be certain that the person you are speaking to is comfortable with this kind of language. ‘Pissing’ is an informal word for urinating.

Raining cats and dogs

This one is a fun idiom to describe rain ! Whoever thought to imagine cats and dogs falling from the sky? Anyway, it’s just another way to describe rain falling heavily.

A deluge of rain is a large amount that falls suddenly, possibly causing flooding.

Torrential rain is very heavy and lasts for a long time. This is the type of rain you may experience in countries with a monsoon season.

Driving rain is accompanied by strong wind that blows it into the sides of buildings (or straight in your face, if you’re caught out in it).

You could describe rain as ‘incessant’ if it has been going on for a long time and feels like it will never end.

Pelting rain seems to have particularly large raindrops that fall very hard.

If you do get caught in heavy rain you might end up ‘soaked through’ or ‘dripping wet’; these both mean that you and your clothes are very wet!

Example sentences to describe different types of rain

Let’s look at how some of these words can be used in sentences:

• I don’t think I need an umbrella; it’s only spitting .
• It’s drizzling at the moment but I wouldn’t be surprised if it starts chucking it down soon.
• Unfortunately for Liz, it poured down all day on her wedding day.
• It’s been bucketing down all afternoon but I hope it stops before the party.
• Look at those clouds! Let’s get inside before it starts tipping down .
• You’d better take your umbrella; it’s raining cats and dogs outside.
• Let’s go home, it looks like it’s going to piss it down soon.
• The village was hit by a deluge . Fortunately, there was no serious damage to any property.
• I have had enough of this incessant rain!
• We’ve had light showers all morning but it looks like the afternoon will be brighter.
• Sorry I’m late; I got caught in a downpour and had to wait until it had passed.
• You can expect torrential rain if you visit during November.

Words to describe how rain sounds

If you’re indoors, the first sign of rain may be the sound it makes. Here are some words that describe rain according to the sound it makes:

• Pitter-patter

“She woke to the pitter-patter of rain falling outside.” “The rain was almost too gentle for me to hear.”

Moderate/heavy rain

• Splattering

“I could hear the pounding rain approaching before I could see it.” “They lay listening to the rain drumming on their roof.”

What’s the word for the smell of rain?

Petrichor is the technical word for the smell of rain hitting dry ground. Many people consider this their favorite smell, but may not realize that there is a word for it!

Other words you could use to describe the smell of rain include:

Describing rainy weather

Finally, here are some words to describe the weather in general when it is rainy:

Many of the terms we have to describe rain are negative, as it’s usually an inconvenience for us. However, let’s not forget that rain is necessary for life to survive and for crops and plants to grow, so we shouldn’t always complain about it.

If you’re looking for more ways to describe different kinds of weather, some weather idioms could come in handy.

Have you heard any different ways to describe rain? If so, please leave a comment to share them.

wonderful information it really helped me with my writing.

Really, thank you so much for your information

Loved the terms and explanation…it’s very helpful.

yes, its nice information.. Good Job… keep it up….thanks

On the first day of my tent camping vacation, we encountered ” blinding rain ” just as we reached the Black Hills. Literally, could not see 3 feet ahead of us!!! (On the interstate! OMG#/=@$×!!! Thought we would die)

Oh dear, what a disaster!

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English Compositions

Short Essay on a Day of Heavy Rain [100, 200, 400 Words] With PDF

This session will specifically focus on writing short essays on a day of heavy rain. In this lesson, I will be writing three sets of essays, each within different word limits. 

Table of Contents

• Short Essay on a Day of Heavy Rain in 100 Words 
• Short Essay on a Day of Heavy Rain in 200 Words 
• Short Essay on a Day of Heavy Rain in 400 Words 

Short Essay on a Day of Heavy Rain in 100 Words

Monsoon is my favourite season. Monsoon brings rain and provides us with much-needed relief from the scorching heat of summer. I especially love the days when it rains heavily. On such days, my parents don’t allow me to go to school and they take leave from their workplace. I get to enjoy the whole day with my parents and siblings.

The streets become waterlogged and all the kids in the neighbourhood start making paper boats. We put colourful paper boats in the water and enjoy watching them float. On days of heavy rain, my mother always makes delicious onion fritters. My father especially loves eating them with a hot cup of tea. After lunch, all of us play games like snake and ladder, carrom board, dumb charades, etc. I enjoy rainy days. 

Short Essay on a Day of Heavy Rain in 200 Words

Monsoon is one of my favourite seasons. The sound of the raindrops falling on parched earth and the earthy fragrance that is radiated fills my heart with excitement and happiness. On days when it rains rather heavily, my parents don’t allow me and my brother to go to school.

My father takes leave from his office as well and I get to enjoy the day together with my whole family. As the streets become waterlogged, the kids in my neighbourhood rush to make paper boats. My brother is exceptionally good at making those. We put our colourful paper boats in the water and enjoy watching them float. 

On days of heavy rain, my mother always makes onion fritters. My father says that there is nothing better than having freshly made onion fritters with hot tea on rainy days. My brother and I, however, enjoy drinking hot chocolate more. After having lunch together, we sit down to play fun games like snake and ladder, carrom board and dumb charades. In the evening when it gets colder and the electricity is cut due to the incessant rain, my parents tuck me and my brother in bed and tell us stories about their childhood days.

Short Essay on a Day of Heavy Rain in 400 Words

Monsoon is one of my favourite seasons. It is that time of the year when the dark rain clouds fill the sky after months of scorching heat and signs of new life begin to appear all around us. It is that time of the year when the sound of raindrops falling on parched earth and the earthy fragrance that is radiated fills everyone’s heart and soul with renewed hope and excitement. Everyone loves the gentle breezes and the mild showers that the monsoon brings but not many enjoy the days when it rains heavily. I, however, love heavy rains. 

When it rains heavily, my parents don’t allow me and my brother to go to school. My father takes leave from his office as well, and we get to spend the entire day together. As the streets become waterlogged, the kids in my neighbourhood rush to make paper boats. My brother is exceptionally good at making those. We put our colourful paper boats in the water and enjoy watching them float. Sometimes we even compete to see whose boats will cover a longer distance. 

On such days, my mother always makes onion fritters. My father says that there is nothing better than having freshly made onion fritters with hot tea on rainy days. My brother and I, however, enjoy drinking hot chocolate more. After having a hearty lunch together, we sit down to play fun games like snake and ladder, carrom board and dumb charades. In the evening, if the is a power outage, my parents make us go to bed early. My brother and I tell each other ghost stories and enjoy scaring each other. 

A couple of years ago, a cyclone had hit our state and the rain didn’t stop for days. During that time, my brother fell sick and got a high fever. I saw my father going out to get medicines in waist-deep water. Most of the clinics were closed and no doctors were available. It was a scary time for us. I wished for the rain to stop.

When I looked outside from our balcony, there was not a single person on the streets. Everything was submerged in water. The next day, the rain stopped and in a few days, my brother got well too. Although it was a scary experience, my brother and I still love the rainy season and wait for days when it rains heavily so that we can skip school and enjoy the day at home. 

In the session above, I have written those essays with a very simplistic approach for a better understanding of all kinds of students. If you still have any doubts regarding today’s discussion, please mention them in the comment section below. To read more such short essays on various important topics, keep browsing our website. 

Join our telegram channel to get the latest updates on our upcoming session. Thank you for being with us. 

Essay on Importance of Rain

Students are often asked to write an essay on Importance of Rain in their schools and colleges. And if you’re also looking for the same, we have created 100-word, 250-word, and 500-word essays on the topic.

Let’s take a look…

100 Words Essay on Importance of Rain

Introduction.

Rain is a vital part of the earth’s weather system. It provides water to plants and animals, filling rivers and lakes.

Life Sustenance

Rain is crucial for life. It helps plants grow, providing food for herbivores and, in turn, carnivores.

Natural Water Supply

Rain replenishes freshwater sources, ensuring a steady supply for drinking, cooking, and cleaning.

Climate Regulation

Rain helps maintain the earth’s temperature. It cools the atmosphere and absorbs heat from the sun.

Also check:

250 Words Essay on Importance of Rain

The essence of rain.

Rain, a natural phenomenon, plays a pivotal role in the survival and prosperity of all life forms on Earth. Its importance transcends mere agricultural implications, extending to ecological balance, water cycles, and even cultural and psychological aspects.

Ecological Balance

Rain is integral to the maintenance of biodiversity. It nourishes plant life, which in turn supports a myriad of animal species. The precipitation helps in the germination of plants and replenishes water bodies, providing habitats for aquatic life.

Water Cycle and Climate Regulation

Rain is a key component of the Earth’s water cycle. It facilitates the transfer of water from the atmosphere to the Earth’s surface, thereby maintaining the overall climatic balance. The absence of rain can lead to droughts, disrupting this delicate balance and leading to adverse climatic conditions.

Cultural and Psychological Significance

Rain also holds cultural and psychological importance. Many cultures view rain as a symbol of life and prosperity. Psychologically, the sound of rain can induce a sense of tranquillity and peace, demonstrating its influence on human emotions.

500 Words Essay on Importance of Rain

Rain, a natural phenomenon, has been a crucial part of the Earth’s ecosystem since its inception. It plays a pivotal role in the cycle of nature, facilitating life and growth. The importance of rain is manifold, influencing not only the environment but also the socio-economic aspects of human life.

The Environmental Significance of Rain

Rain is a primary component of the Earth’s water cycle. It replenishes groundwater reserves, rivers, and lakes, maintaining the overall water balance on Earth. Without rain, these natural water sources would eventually dry up, leading to a severe water crisis.

The Ecological Role of Rain

Rain is vital for the sustenance of all forms of life. It provides the necessary water for plants to carry out photosynthesis, the process that generates oxygen for all aerobic organisms. Rainforests, which produce a significant portion of the world’s oxygen, rely heavily on high rainfall amounts.

Rain also creates habitats for a myriad of species. Wetlands, formed by consistent rainfall, are among the most biologically diverse ecosystems, providing refuge for numerous plants, birds, and aquatic life.

Rain and Agriculture

However, the unpredictability of rain can also lead to crop failure, causing food insecurity and economic instability. Therefore, understanding and predicting rainfall patterns is crucial for the agricultural sector.

Rain and Human Culture

Rain has a profound influence on human culture and society. It has been a source of inspiration for artists, poets, and musicians, symbolizing renewal, cleansing, and fertility. Many cultures around the world celebrate rain through festivals and rituals, signifying its importance in human life.

While the importance of rain is undeniable, it is equally important to acknowledge the negative impacts of its extremes. Both lack of rain (drought) and excessive rain (floods) can lead to devastating consequences for the environment and human society. As we grapple with climate change, understanding and managing rainfall patterns becomes increasingly crucial.

In conclusion, rain is not just a natural phenomenon; it is a life-giver, a climate regulator, and a cultural influencer. Its significance permeates every aspect of life on Earth, making it an indispensable part of our existence.

If you’re looking for more, here are essays on other interesting topics:

Apart from these, you can look at all the essays by clicking here .

Happy studying!

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Home — Essay Samples — Environment — Rain — The Beauty and Significance of Rainy Days

The Beauty and Significance of Rainy Days

• Categories: Rain

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Words: 666 |

Published: Feb 7, 2024

Words: 666 | Page: 1 | 4 min read

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The setting, the feelings, the activities, the effect on nature, the reflections.

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The Best Rain in Literature

Straight and silvery, big as buckshot, a thin knife of cool.

This morning, it is raining, and I am drinking tea. Whenever these two elements coincide, I always think of a poem I discovered and fell in love with as an irreverent literary teen: “It is raining. / I guess I’ll make / Some tea.” Yes, it’s a haiku, and sure, it’s by Gary Snyder, but what do you want from me, I was thirteen years old and still amazed at what counted as poetry. I inscribed this poem on my bedspread in fabric paint. I cannot pour tea in the rain without it bouncing through my head. I make this confession only to say that there is rain of all kinds in literature, and considering that it is April (month of showers) and it is a strange April because so many of us are spending it inside (which makes the rain much more appealing and romantic), I thought I would highlight some of my favorites. Maybe a phrase from the below will stick with you and torment you for years, who knows? One can only hope.

From Iris Murdoch’s The Sea, The Sea :

The rain came down, straight and silvery, like a punishment of steel rods. It clattered onto the house and onto the rocks and pitted the sea. The thunder made some sounds like grand pianos falling downstairs, then settled to a softer continuous rumble, which was almost drowned by the sound of the rain. The flashes of lightning joined into long illuminations which made the grass a lurid green, the rocks a blazing ochre yellow, as yellow as Gilbert’s car.

From Clarie-Louise Bennet’s Pond :

Incredible, really. Or so it seemed to me as I went by and heard the thing play out. Further along there were those very small raindrops, droplets I suppose, which attach themselves with resolute but nonetheless ebullient regularity among the fronds of a beautiful type of delicate crass, appearing, for all the world, like a squandered chandelier dashing headlong down the hillside.

From Halldór Laxness’s  Independent People :

Shortly afterwards it started raining, very innocently at first, but the sky was packed tight with cloud and gradually the drops grew bigger and heavier, until it was autumn’s dismal rain that was falling—rain that seemed to fill the entire world with its leaden beat, rain suggestive in its dreariness of everlasting waterfalls between the planets, rain that thatched the heavens with drabness and brooded oppressively over the whole countryside, like a disease, strong in the power of its flat, unvarying monotony, its smothering heaviness, its cold, unrelenting cruelty. Smoothly, smoothly it fell, over the whole shire, over the fallen marsh grass, over the troubled lake, the iron-grey gravel flats, the sombre mountain above the croft, smudging out every prospect. And the heavy, hopeless, interminable beat wormed its way into every crevice in the house, lay like a pad of cotton wool over the ears, and embraced everything, both near and far, in its compass, like an unromantic story from life itself that has no rhythm and no crescendo, no climax, but which is nevertheless overwhelming in its scope, terrifying in its significance. And at the bottom of this unfathomed ocean of teeming rain sat the little house and its one neurotic woman.

From Haruki Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore :

In the afternoon dark clouds suddenly color the sky a mysterious shade and it starts raining hard, pounding the roof and windows of the cabin. I strip naked and run outside, washing my face with soap and scrubbing myself all over. It feels wonderful. In my joy I shut my eyes and shout out meaningless words as the large raindrops strike me on the cheeks, the eyelids, chest, side, penis, legs, and butt—the stinging pain like a religious initiation or something. Along with the pain there’s a feeling of closeness, like for once in my life the world’s treating me fairly. I feel elated, as if all of a sudden I’ve been set free. I face the sky, hands held wide apart, open my mouth wide, and gulp down the falling rain.

From William Faulkner’s As I Lay Dying :

It begins to rain. The first harsh, sparse, swift drops rush through the leaves and across the ground in a long sigh, as though of relief from intolerable suspense. They are as big as buckshot, warm as though fired from a gun; they sweep across the lantern in a vicious hissing. Pa lifts his face, slack-mouthed, the wet black rim of snuff plastered close along the base of his gums; from behind his slack-faced astonishment he muses as though from beyond time, upon the ultimate outrage. Cash looks once at the sky, then at the lantern. The saw has not faltered, the running gleam of its pistoning edge unbroken. “Get something to cover the lantern,” he says.

From NoViolet Bulawayo’s  We Need New Names :

Then it starts raining, like maybe Godknows has made it rain by all his talking. It’s a light rain, the kind that just licks you. We sit in it and smell the delicious earth around us.

Me, I want my mother, Godknows says after a long while. His voice is choking in the rain and I look at his face and it’s wet and I don’t know which is the rain, which are the tears. I am thinking I want my mother too, we all want our mothers, even though when they are here we don’t really care about them. Then, after just a little while, even before we are proper wet, the rain stops and the sun comes out and pierces, like it wants to show the rain who is who. We sit there and get cooked in it.

From Virginia Woolf’s  The Years :

It was raining. A fine rain, a gentle shower, was peppering the pavements and making them greasy. Was it worth while opening an umbrella, was it necessary to hail a hansom, people coming out from the theatres asked themselves, looking up at the mild, milky sky in which the stars were blunted. Where it fell on earth, on fields and gardens, it drew up the smell of earth. Here a drop poised on a grass-blade; there filled the cup of a wild flower, till the breeze stirred and the rain was spilt. Was it worth while to shelter under the hawthorn, under the hedge, the sheep seemed to question; and the cows, already turned out in the grey fields, under the dim hedges, munched on, sleepily chewing with raindrops on their hides. Down on the roofs it fell–here in Westminster, there in the Ladbroke Grove; on the wide sea a million points pricked the blue monster like an innumerable shower bath. Over the vast domes, the soaring spires of slumbering University cities, over the leaded libraries, and the museums, now shrouded in brown holland, the gentle rain slid down, till, reaching the mouths of those fantastic laughers, the many-clawed gargoyles, it splayed out in a thousand odd indentations. A drunken man slipping in a narrow passage outside the public house, cursed it. Women in childbirth heard the doctor say to the midwife, “It’s raining.” And the walloping Oxford bells, turning over and over like slow porpoises in a sea of oil, contemplatively intoned their musical incantation. The fine rain, the gentle rain, poured equally over the mitred and the bareheaded with an impartiality which suggested that the god of rain, if there were a god, was thinking Let it not be restricted to the very wise, the very great, but let all breathing kind, the munchers and chewers, the ignorant, the unhappy, those who toil in the furnace making innumerable copies of the same pot, those who bore red hot minds through contorted letters, and also Mrs Jones in the alley, share my bounty.

From James Joyce’s  Dubliners :

It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds.

From Willie Perdomo’s “ We Used to Call it Puerto Rico Rain “:

The rain had just finished saying,  This block is mine .

The kind of rain where you could sleep through two

breakthroughs, and still have enough left to belly-sing

the ambrosial hour.

Blood pellets in the dusk & dashes of hail were perfect for

finding new stashes; that is to say, visitations were never

From Lauren Groff’s “ The Midnight Zone “:

The rain increased until it was deafening and still my sweaty children slept. I thought of the waves of sleep rushing through their brains, washing out the tiny unimportant flotsam of today so that tomorrow’s heavier truths could wash in. There was a nice solidity to the rain’s pounding on the roof, as if the noise were a barrier that nothing could enter, a stay against the looming night.

I tried to bring back the poems of my youth, and could not remember more than a few floating lines, which I put together into a strange, sad poem, Blake and Dickinson and Frost and Milton and Sexton, a tag-sale poem in clammy meter that nonetheless came alive and held my hand for a little while.

Then the rain diminished until all that was left were scattered clicks from the drops falling from the pines

From Charles Dickens’ Bleak House :

The weather had been all the week extremely sultry, but the storm broke so suddenly—upon us, at least, in that sheltered spot—that before we reached the outskirts of the wood the thunder and lightning were frequent and the rain came plunging through the leaves as if every drop were a great leaden bead. As it was not a time for standing among trees, we ran out of the wood, and up and down the moss-grown steps which crossed the plantation-fence like two broad-staved ladders placed back to back, and made for a keeper’s lodge which was close at hand. We had often noticed the dark beauty of this lodge standing in a deep twilight of trees, and how the ivy clustered over it, and how there was a steep hollow near, where we had once seen the keeper’s dog dive down into the fern as if it were water.

The lodge was so dark within, now the sky was overcast, that we only clearly saw the man who came to the door when we took shelter there and put two chairs for Ada and me. The lattice-windows were all thrown open, and we sat just within the doorway watching the storm. It was grand to see how the wind awoke, and bent the trees, and drove the rain before it like a cloud of smoke; and to hear the solemn thunder and to see the lightning; and while thinking with awe of the tremendous powers by which our little lives are encompassed, to consider how beneficent they are and how upon the smallest flower and leaf there was already a freshness poured from all this seeming rage which seemed to make creation new again.

From Elizabeth Hardwick’s  Sleepless Nights :

Sometimes the rain was beautiful. The lavender and silver streaks, gleaming in the mud, seek to be honored, to receive some word of gratitude. The kindness of damp afternoons, the solace of opening the door and finding everyone there.

What next? Where to? Even in the midst of it all, in the devoted warmth, the well-disposed threat of familiarity, the cemetery waits to be desecrated.

From Toni Morrison’s  Song of Solomon :

She was thoroughly soaked before she realized it was raining and then only because one of the shopping bags split. When she looked down, her Evan-Picone white-with-a-band-of-color skirt was lying in a neat half fold on the shoulder of the road, and she was far far from home. She put down both bags, picked the skirt up and brushed away the crumbs of gravel that stuck to it. Quickly she refolded it, but when she tried to tuck it back into the shopping bag, the bag collapsed altogether. Rain soaked her hair and poured down her neck as she stooped to repair the damage. She pulled out the box of Con Brios, a smaller package of Van Raalte gloves, and another containing her fawn-trimmed-in-sea-foam shortie nightgown. These she stuffed into the other bag. Retracing hers steps, she found herself unable to carry the heavier bag in one hand, so she hoisted it up to her stomach and hugged it with both arms. She had gone hardly ten yards when the bottom fell out of it. Hagar tripped on Jungle Red (Sculptura) and Youth Blend, and to her great dismay, saw her box of Sunny Glow toppling into a puddle. She collected Jungle Red and Youth Blend safely, but Sunny Glow, which had tipped completely over and lost its protective disk, exploded in light peach puffs under the weight of the raindrops. Hagar scraped up as much of it as she could and pressed the wilted cellophane disk back into the box.

Jack Gilbert’s “Rain”:

Suddenly this defeat. This rain. The blues gone gray And the browns gone gray And yellow A terrible amber. In the cold streets Your warm body. In whatever room Your warm body. Among all the people Your absence The people who are always Not you.

I have been easy with trees Too long. Too familiar with mountains. Joy has been a habit. Now Suddenly This rain.

From Kevin Barry’s “ Fjord of Killary “:

So I bought an old hotel on the fjord of Killary. It was set hard by the harbor wall, with Mweelrea Mountain across the water, and disgracefully gray skies above. It rained two hundred and eighty-seven days of the year, and the locals were given to magnificent mood swings. On the night in question, the rain was particularly violent—it came down like handfuls of nails flung hard and fast by a seriously riled sky god. I was at this point eight months in the place and about convinced that it would be the death of me.

“It’s end-of-the-fucking-world stuff out there,” I said.

From J. D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye :

Boy, it began to rain like a bastard. In buckets, I swear to God. All the parents and mothers and everybody went over and stood right under the roof of the carrousel, so they wouldn’t get soaked to the skin or anything, but I stuck around on the bench for quite a while. I got pretty soaking wet, especially my neck and my pants. My hunting hat really gave me quite a lot of protection, in a way; but I got soaked anyway. I didn’t care, though. I felt so damn happy all of a sudden, the way old Phoebe kept going around and around. I was damn near bawling, I felt so damn happy, if you want to know the truth. I don’t know why. It was just that she looked so damn nice, the way she kept going around and around, in her blue coat and all. God, I wish you could’ve been there.

From Jesmyn Ward’s  Sing, Unburied, Sing :

“A dollar thirty,” she says, and I have to lean toward her to hear because thunder booms, a great clacking split, and the sky dumps water on the tin roof of the building: a tumble of sound. I can’t see down her shirt but it’s what I think about when I’m standing out in the rain, the back of my shirt pulled over my head like it could protect me, but all of me wet, gas fumes thick with the smell of wet earth, rain running down to blind my eyes, to stream from my nose. It all makes me feel like I can’t breathe. I remember just in time and tilt my head back, hold my breath, and let rain trickle down my throat. A thin knife of cool when I swallow. Once. Twice. Three times because the pump is so slow. The rain presses my eyes closed, kneads them. I think I hear a whisper of something, a whoosh of a word, but then it’s gone and the nozzle goes slack. The care is close and warm, and Kayla is snoring.

From William Shakespeare’s King Lear :

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drenched our steeples, drowned the cocks! You sulfurous and thought-executing fires, 5Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Smite flat the thick rotundity o’ th’ world, Crack nature’s molds, all germens spill at once That make ingrateful man!

From Thomas Hardy’s Far from the Madding Crowd :

The air changed its temperature and stirred itself more vigorously. Cool breezes coursed in transparent eddies round Oak’s face. The wind shifted yet a point or two and blew stronger. In ten minutes every wind of heaven seemed to be roaming at large. Some of the thatching on the wheat-stacks was now whirled fantastically aloft, and had to be replaced and weighted with some rails that lay near at hand. This done, Oak slaved away again at the barley. A huge drop of rain smote his face, the wind snarled round every corner, the trees rocked to the bases of their trunks, and the twigs clashed in strife. Driving in spars at any point and on any system, inch by inch he covered more and more safely from ruin this distracting impersonation of seven hundred pounds. The rain came on in earnest, and Oak soon felt the water to be tracking cold and clammy routes down his back. Ultimately he was reduced well-nigh to a homogeneous sop, and the dyes of his clothes trickled down and stood in a pool at the foot of the ladder. The rain stretched obliquely through the dull atmosphere in liquid spines, unbroken in continuity between their beginnings in the clouds and their points in him.

Kay Ryan’s “Expectations”:

We expect rain to animate this creek: these rocks to harbor gurgles, these pebbles to creep downstream a little, those leaves to circle in the eddy, the stains and gloss of wet. The bed is ready but no rain yet.

From Colson Whitehead’s  The Colossus of New York :

Out on the street they hardly notice the clouds before it starts raining. The rain comes down in sheets. Drenched all at once, not drop by drop. The first drop is the pistol at the start of the race and at that crack people move for shelter, any ragtag thing, they huddle under ripped awnings, the doorway of the diner, suddenly an appetite for coffee. Pressed up against buildings as if on the lam. Little sprints and dashes between horizontal cover. Dry here. Surely it will stop soon, they think. They can wait it out. It cannot last forever.

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Emily Temple

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