Today is one of my favorite types of days: Rainy with a 100 percent chance of more rain. Something about rain drops hitting the windows of my house is incredibly calming. It's almost like I'm sitting underneath a waterfall, protected by my own home.
When you stare out of a window, it looks grey and dreary at first. The sky looks dark, everything is drenched, the fields are muddy. To me, it's a break -- a break from perfection. It's a break from all of those perfect, sunny days, from all of the day-to-day activities. It's an excuse to stay at home (dressed in PJs, of course) and take-a-break-from-reality. It's a laundry day, an organizing day, an art day, a TV day, a music day, a reflection day, a sit-on-the-couch-with-your-dogs day, a day to write about rain.
As I reorganize my room (this process has been going on all year), I stumble across old memories. I read my journals and diaries, filled with stories I wrote as a proud elementary schooler, and can't help but smile. They possess my home made dictionaries, book of inventions, adventures and experiences. Journal entries about my messy room (how things never change), zebra spies, trapping zoids (if you ever wondered how the word 'trapezoid' came to be) and tips for the future. It was the imagination of a nine-year-old at its peak. There are envelopes filled with old letters, even 14 love songs a boy wrote me for Valentine's Day in the eighth grade. I see old photos hiding in between books on my bookshelf, pictures of me with my two brothers, probably taken a decade ago.
I stare back out my window at the brighter-than-normal trees and plants swaying with every drip of water. Then I think back to the muddy day with my nanny, Lila, and my two brothers when these pictures were taken. It had just poured, and we convinced Lila to bring us to a local park. She drove us there, and as soon as she parked, we were off! We ran to the first baseball diamond and immediately took off our shoes as we noticed the squishy mud of what used to be a dirt-packed field. We looked at each other, felt the drizzle of rain on our skin and simultaneously reached for the ground. The mud fight began. We threw big globs of mud back and forth. It got everywhere! Down our shirts, on our heads, in our socks. We were screaming with delight, over the rain and thunder. Lila eventually got us to stop. She couldn't stand how dirty we looked. We tried to give her a giant, muddy hug, but she chuckled and stepped back. "Monstruos! (monsters)" she yelled with a smile.
Some of the happiest days of my life have occurred on rainy days. Also some of the saddest, like the days I lost my grandmother and aunt. Rain forces us to stop for a second and stare out of a window. This "stop-and-think" action creates harmony, whether we like it or not. For the few hours that it's raining, everyone is in synch for at least one second, staring at the water rushing from the sky. You can curse at it or embrace it, but you must acknowledge it.
Now, the rain is forcing me to clean my room and get organized for my last summer before college. And who knows? Maybe we'll see a rainbow later.