When I was little and it rained outside, my mother would say, “The angels are crying.” When there was thunder and lightning, she would say, “The angels are bowling.” Things like this are very real to little kids, and I’m sure most people reading this remember believing it or something similar when they were little. Such is the magical life of a child. Things are taken at face value.
And why shouldn’t they be? Because the thing is, I don’t know if I ever stopped believing in the angels crying. After all, angels are supernatural or spiritual beings recorded in various religions and mythologies all over the world. Everyone has heard of angels. They seem to be attendants or messengers for a higher power. Believing in them doesn’t make them exist, but not believing in them doesn’t make them not exist either. If an angel is just an intermediary between Heaven and Earth, and if the Earth is really very thirsty for some water, is it too much of a stretch to believe that the intermediary has fulfilled the need for rain?
|Angel upon the water.|
The water cycle is explained to us in elementary school. The all-powerful sun evaporates the water. (Even with rain, the Sun is crucial.) As more and more steam enters the air, the clouds gather. They start to get heavy when the steam mixes with tiny particles in the air. When they get too heavy, they break up and crash down to the land as heavy rain droplets or hail or snow. When the weight of the world becomes too heavy, the angels cry. Then the sun starts the process all over again.
Perhaps that’s why angels are always pictured in clouds with fluffy wings. Or sometimes they’re pictured terribly, wielding a frightening and horrible power. Perhaps they find the positive and negative charges up in the clouds and when their wings blow the air hard enough, a huge discharge of electricity is seen. Giant flashes! Flashes within the clouds themselves, and flashes of unseen negative electricity reaching toward the positively-charged ground, which then responds and produces a terrible flash upward. Strike! The angels are bowling.
And who’s to say it’s nonsense? I’m the keeper of the woods and streams in my area, and I say it’s good.