This line comes from V for Vendetta. I loved it as it was used in the movie and I felt it the night before last when that wild storm swept the heat out of Toronto.
First the clouds and wind advanced in a solid line. The sky was evening blue, you know, that colour as turquoise deepens and blackens to navy; it lies somewhere in the middle looking both crisp and deep and full of dreams, the perfect backdrop for the first glittering star of the evening. As the clouds moved overhead I went outside.
They were lit underneath with the fluorescent orange glow of the city, a colour both artificial and unsettling. And the edge of the storm was not marked with cloud-shaped borders, it was an eerie smooth, curved edge. It made me think of Sauron’s advancing gloom over Middle-earth. The trees whipped up, hissing and thrashing as the wind stomped through their branches. It was still stifling and hot but you could feel the undercurrent of coolness coming down from the north.
Then, the lightning began, heat lightning at first, like Zeus riding his chariot through the black clouds, and then grand strikes, jagged and blinding. We watched, waiting.
Two drops of water landed on my face, two drops on Richard. And suddenly, the sky opened up. Water fell in large, juicy drops, so fast, and driven by the wind that we were soaked before we could get inside. Lightning seared, the wind danced in a frenzy and thunder cracked open the back of that heat.
I stood there feeling it. The electricity of it, the sensual danger of it. I felt it. God is in the rain. I was refreshed, awakened from days of sweat-drenched stupour. I was alive. Without realizing it, I had my hands raised to the sky, welcoming the live-giving rain, hearing the sigh of the parched earth, the wilted plants, the heavy hearts. I needed this rain, this reprieve from sleepless madness. I needed the song of its drops and the violence of its energy. The cool air blew in from all around, like love to a starved heart. God is in the rain.