A greyscale day out in the rain
In the middle of my stargazing session last night, the stars were soon shadowed by dark-bellied clouds. The moon that shone so bright was now nowhere to be seen. The breeze had a cold, humid feel to it while it played with my hair. Eventually, it began to rain.
I stopped doing everything and stood there.
As a child, I have always played in the rain. Whenever the clouds turned dark and the thunder was heard, I used to run outside and dance in the rain until it stopped. That was my moment of ecstasy.
Somehow over the years, the rain did not amuse me. Rain then meant inconvenience in all phases. It meant humidity, it meant flooding of the streets, it meant traffic on the roads, it meant the difficulty to walk my dog and in all this I began to detest rain.
Until yesterday, when I made my 10-year-old self happy by just standing there and looking at the rain. I looked above and felt the cool water of heaven tingling my bare face as it seeped down only to make my clothes cling tighter to my skin. I jumped and danced with the breeze whooshing past me. I love rain and will continue to all my life.
The rain has always captivated me. It's been my romantic inspiration or just my excuse to be closer to nature. I'm a pluviophile.
Let me tell you why....
The darkness of the sky is beautiful. I don't quite understand why rains are termed as gloomy. It's a symbol of rejuvenation as the world around us turns a little greener and a little brighter.
The 'after rain' scent. Oh my, can I talk about that for a second? I wish that scent can be bottled up in some ways. I love that scent of wet mud in the air when it rains.
The sound of the rain on my windowsill is such a soothing music to write or sleep. It's cozy and comforting to hear.
And yes, the rainbow. The last time I saw a rainbow, I was aged 6. I still remember that day when I saw that beautiful scene in the sky with my cousin. We both were kids and we were astonished to see such a sight. I still yearn for that same innocence, that amazement we all hold as children.
Growing up, we lose this excitement for little things and get lost in the bigger picture. We stop being happy because we stop doing the things we love. We get into the monotony of routine and kills the child in us.
When was the last time you did something your 10-year-old self would be happy about?
Last night, I did and was lost in the magic.
--
Read a similar post: Happiness comes in small packages
Read more posts on rain: Rain Memoirs and Taste Of Rain
Follow me on: Twitter | Facebook | Google+ | Bloglovin
