It’s been gray and cloudy here for the last few days. We’ve had sporadic rain and today it is still coming down.
I love it.
For all the tension and misery I lived through in my home environment, concerning my father’s unpredictability, I always had a cozy and warm feeling when it would rain.
Perhaps it was just something as simple as having shelter and a warm bed, physical protection from the elements, that gave me that feeling.Or maybe it was the freedom it represented to me, something I’m only thinking of now.
It stays with me to this day. Rainy days just tend to bring up warm and fuzzy feelings for me.
I used to sit and color when it rained, particularly during thunderstorms. There was a feeling of safety in that.
For four years we lived in a house with a big front porch. When it rained, the three of us (children) would go out and play as if we were on a ship. We’d pretend to fish and dive off the steps into the turbulent ocean.
In warm weather as long as the rain didn’t include a lightning storm, we also played right in it. Nothing like the feeling of wet cool grass and soft ground under your bare feet.
When we belonged to the swim club and it started to rain, we’d keep swimming. The pool stayed open as long as it wasn’t a thunder/lightning storm. The first time I discovered that you can’t feel the rain drops on your skin when you’re already wet from swimming, I was amazed.
I still take comfort in the rain. I love the sound of it falling on the leaves and the way the tires sound as they drive down a wet road. The sounds of the birds add an additional layer of tranquility as well.
Rain always seems to make the world look surreal.
The rain is one of the pleasant triggers from childhood. And I’m grateful for that.