Rain
A lot of people I know don’t enjoy the rain, especially not as much as I do. But see, I don’t quite think they view it the way I do. Whenever it rains, a rainbow follows, or metaphorically speaking something beautiful always comes after the big storm.
The rain isn’t just this depressing, fun activity ruining, sticky, non-avoiding weather. The rain, to me, is a memory of a person close to me. The trust and admiration I have for the person is all I can think of every time it pours. The rain is a calming sound that I’d hope to sit outside on my front porch someday when I’m retired and listen to all morning and night long. The rain is running to the car when you don’t have an umbrella with you and you slip and fall into a big puddle and start laughing and can’t seem to stop. When the rain hits your stressed and too longly worried face, it’s like a relief, like you can somehow finally breathe and know that you’re alive and it’s such a blessing to be alive. The rain is a reminder of God, and that even in the hardest of times He still wants you to know He’s there watching over you like always even when you doubt it for the slightest second. The rain is a smell that everyone loves. The rain is a sound on the roof that was like music to your ears as a child, you’d do anything to convince your parents to let you go outside and dance around in the rain. And mostly, the rain comes when I’ve nearly forgotten how precious life is.
It’s like every time I seem to look out the window and see the little droplets start to pile up and come rapidly, it’s impossible for me to not smile. Rain to me is like a day at the beach for others. I don’t believe the rain is depressing or sad or sticky and gross, I think the rain is a beautiful reminder of all the good things in life and I hope someday I can live somewhere where the sound and smell and sight of rain become a part of my daily life.
