Falling asleep to the sound of rain always reminds me of camping, even without the soothing sound of rain gently hitting the top of a tent. It makes me think of evenings spent in the foothills of northern New Mexico... being huddled inside my brother's Wayzata athletics sweatshirt under my dad's arm, listening to my brothers and the rest of the guys tell dirty jokes and scary stories. It makes me think of being protected in my sleeping bag under my dad's old army-issue tent while water dripped off the canvas onto the forest floor.

I love that it's raining right now. Our window is wide open to the sound of it... the noise of it hitting the ground, the splash of cars as they pass by on St. Marie. That is my soundtrack for bedtime tonight.