Good Rain

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Growing up in Kansas in the summer, the air would be so thick with humidity sometimes it would be difficult to breathe. Sometimes the air would be so heavy you would hope for a good rain. After it would pour you would walk outside and everything would feel lighter, brighter, greener, and cleaner. A fresh scent, like everything, was new. Sometimes life gets heavy like the humidity and your soul is the one that needs the good rain. This was mine.