Rain Beat

There's something about the cool, dreary February days that unlocks the feeling that Spring is fast approaching. Maybe it's the slight increase in temperature or the significant decrease in traction, but either way, one can't help but smile when on the dry side of a car windshield with the wipers thumping out a rhythm with enough vigor to rival a marching drum.

There are certain songs that fit perfectly with the mood—light, upbeat jams or softer, haunting vocal paintings. Either will fit the bill as long as they resound in time with the wipers occasionally. It's magical when it happens. You can feel the music and the wipers fighting against each other until those brief few measures where the music is perfectly in sync. Feet can't help but pound on the floorboards and hands on the dash for those brief musical abnormalities. Then, as suddenly as they came, they vanish.

Of course, they return given time, but nothing can rival that of the first heart-pounding stanza as you slowly begin to expect the duet, and then it loses all surprise and grandeur. It just turns into background noise until the song is over.

Maybe that's why these dreary February days make everyone think of Spring. The first snow has passed, and all we're left with is this cold slush, this noisy remnant of something much more powerful and alluring that it's nothing but noise now. It's cold. We know. All we have left to do is wait for it to all be over.