When we left the house this morning, it was raining and my son hunched his shoulders and squinted, staring up into the sky and said, "I know the grass and flowers need the rain but this is miserable." About 45 minutes later, I left the house again - this time to take my daughter to school - and she walked out into the rain, body relaxed and said, "I love the rain. It makes everything feel cozy." I'm not surprised at the differing perspectives. They rarely agree on anything. But I agree with my daughter and find a certain comfort in rainy days.
When I was younger, sunny days always meant work. My mother loved working outside, tending her garden at our home in Kansas City or clearing land around our cabin in southern Missouri. I hated working outside. I hated the heat and humidity but also the dirt. I was an indoor kind of kid, preferring books and stories to the feel of the earth in my hands. But my mother believed that kids needed sunshine and hard work, so, she always forced me to join her in some project. Weeding. Clearing woods. Carrying rocks. Pulling driftwood from the shoreline.
Rainy days were mine, though. My mother would pace around the house or cabin like a caged animal and I would curl up with a book and feel completely free.
Maybe that's why I love rainy days. This morning, the rain woke me before dawn. It took me a moment to place the gentle sound of water hitting the roof. It wasn't melting snow or ice but spring rain coming earlier than usual. I pulled the blankets tighter around myself and went back to sleep. Rain does make everything cozy. There is less pressure to do and more permission to be.
Photo Credit: reza shayestehpour