I love rain! I admit it. I absolutely love rain. I know how weird this may sound coming from the same person who wrote about his hatred of snow and the cold, but it’s true. I love rain in all its forms.
I love the “early morning drizzle” rain when you’ve just left your house. Everything is damp and tranquil, and there is a light fog hovering from above. One of those mysterious mornings where you half expect to stumble upon a lost magical village in the Highlands of Scotland on your way to work or run into a band of undead pirates who recruit you to help them find a boundless cache of buried treasure.
Then there is the “hot muggy day” rain. That rain at the peak of summer during the week when all the heat records going back to 1892, when records were first kept, were broken. That day of deliverance, when every leaf, stem and root’s prayer was heard and the parched earth finally received its long awaited respite. Those are the days that I want to sprint out of my house and dance around with my hands lifted up towards the heavens in thanks (yep, that crazy person you saw was me!). Those are the days I want to call all my friends for an impromptu game of soccer and get everything covered in mud. Those are the days that I simply want to lie down in the grass taking it all in, until you can’t tell where water starts and little boy ends.
But my absolute favorite rain is that “dark peaceful Sunday afternoon” rain. That rain where you don’t get out of bed until three in the afternoon and you never bother leaving the house or doing anything productive whatsoever. That rain where all you want to do is spend the day on the couch with somebody you love, an enormous old quilted blanket, a bag of popcorn, and a stack of classic movies in black and white.
- Carlos de la Gringa
