Rain rain go away,
Come again another day
Ah a rainy day.
I have always had a soft spot in my heart for a rainy day. I can’t quite explain it. I find them to be strangely comforting. There is just something about them that makes me feel better, like I could just curl up with a good (or not so good) book, make myself some tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich and call it a day.
I won’t say that every rainy day brings the same feelings of comfort and nostalgia to mind. They don’t. Like sunny days, no two rainy days are exactly the same. There are certain other factors that have to be considered. Frame of mind and time of the year are at least two of them. How many rain-filled days in a row typically doesn’t factor in, unless there is something really pressing that needs to get done.
I have tried to understand my affection for water-logged days for quite some time now. It can’t be storming (though a few storms can be some fun). It shouldn’t be raining so hard and fast that there is a danger of a floods. A solid, steady shower is good with fits of drizzle and a bit of mist is ideal. Enough to be comforting but not so much that it makes running to the store a complete pain.
Productivity comes more easily on such damp days. I find my focus easier to come by, better to grapple with and cross things off my to do list. This post is an obvious example. When the weather is sunny and bright especially during the nicer months I find my mind drifting outside. There are things I can be doing out there, tasks that I have been procrastinating on that seem to shout to get done. Rain has a way of washing the laziness away. I am always careful to grab such energy when it passes by. One of these days I will find a way to carry it on past the weather, but I haven’t mastered it yet.
This affection could come from my childhood or some intrinsic love that has been built into my DNA. My family (past and present) are folk from cooler, wetter places than the one that I am currently living in. Through the rain I am able to connect with my roots, to get back what I have lost without having to take an eight hour plane trip.
Or it could from the fact that as a kid a rainy weekend meant that I would have a chance to snag my father’s attention away from a project. There were board games and episodes of Double Dare on the TV. If I was on my own I could curl up and read one of the books that I had checked out from the library in peace. There wouldn’t be much nagging for me to go outside and I wasn’t about to pass such opportunities by.
No matter the reasons (big or small, half-remembered or just made up) there is nothing quite like a rainy day.
Unless I’m meant to be at the beach. Then it kind of sucks.