Today, I woke up to a mini-storm outside my window.
Rain was bashing against the walls, thunder roared incessantly, and lightning sparked a couple miles away.
And I loved it.
Rainy days -particularly stormy days- are the best. They give you an excuse to stay inside and do nothing. They give you a special, solemn peace you wouldn’t get on sunny days.
Maybe that’s just the laziness in me talking (I was going to run today but had enough excuses to talk myself out of it), but I love the grayness of the skies and the rhythmic trickling of water. I gets me excited, but not anxious. Like a weird kind of happy that’s brought on by seemingly depressing weather.
On days like these, I like to write or read. Sometimes, I just lay down and think things (what things? I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it). And it is in these moments that I feel most relaxed and most content.
So I don’t know why rain or dark clouds are constantly used as metaphors of gloom. Instead, they should be referred to as symbols of rest, peace, and calming solidarity.
In this fast paced world of work on top of work, don’t we need days where we can just take the time to be inside, alone, and reflect upon ourselves?
Or at least watch a couple movies on Netflix?
Even if you are at work on a rainy day, there is still that feeling of vibrant calmness. That’s why I love it when it rains on days I work. I find that I have more energy than when it’s sunny and 100 degrees outside.
Surely, I can’t be the only one whose heart flutters when they hear a clash in the sky first thing in the morning.
So what do you think, non-existent reader?