Under the Hug of Rain

I like it when it rains, snows. Each drop, flake fallling from the sky exerts a small nearly invisible pressure upon the surface, roof, wall it hits. Collectively, the thousands, millions of bits of water exert a much larger pressure. And though clearly still conciously imperceptable to most, I can feel the space, room being squeezed under that dancing weight. This miniscule squeeze is comforting to many (even if they may not know why), and much more so for me. That is why I like it when it's raining, snowing.