Listening to the sound of rain falling on the roof of a park model is wonderful. The sound is magnified in these units with little separating them from the outdoors. The streets will be like rivers with rain predicted to last through the night, all day tomorrow and into the morning of the next day.
I say bring it on. ☔️
I love rainy days. I love thunderstorms even more. Wind, thunder, lightening—the more dramatic, the better. This is assuming I have the luxury of staying indoors, of course. But a rainy day is like permission - to bake cookies, to read that book I started, to do a bit of organizing, maybe go through a closet or two, stitch a sampler. The possibilities are endless. A rainy day is like a gift.
But there is a limit to my enjoyment. After a couple of days, cabin fever sets in and I’m ready for the sun to shine again.
I write this from Arizona but I feel the same about a snow storm—make that a blizzard—in Minnesota.
There’s nothing better than watching the snow cover the ground as it starts to fall, then seeing it develop into mounds of snow; getting higher and higher until all you see is white. This is also assuming you have the luxury of staying indoors with no other place you need to be. Not that you can even go anywhere because your car is now buried in the snow, you can no longer see the driveway, the snow has drifted to your front door and you can’t open it, and you don’t see the point in clearing it because it’s still snowing. And you have nowhere else you need to be. Ahhh, all making for a cozy day.
But, here in Arizona, the rain continues to fall, a hypnotizing sound on the roof, lulling me into an afternoon nap. And I forget about all the things I had permission to do. Cookies? Cleaning a closet? Organizing?
Not today.
Thank you, as always, for reading my random thoughts.
