This morning was kind of awesome. I awoke to a sweet, snuggly baby who showed very little indication of being awake anytime soon. I checked the weather by sight and feeing the window; chilly, and dry, but not for long. No wonder Zoe was still asleep. By the time I washed my face it was raining. I can’t be certain, but odds are good that it rained all day.

I LOVE rain. Growing up we played in the water, usually in the rushing part next to the curb. In the summer, we were always outside and if it started to rain really hard, we would seek shelter in an exciting game-like way or race back home on our bikes. By the time I was old enough to consider the danger of lightning I also knew the statistics of it; well into my adult years and until my illness I remained unconcerned about such unlikely things.

No one expects your hair to look nice on a stormy day, and people put a little extra bustle in their step to arrive at the doors of buildings. Incomers and outgoers trade knowing glances and there’s a camaraderie that feels a little different than the exchange on fair-weather days. Laundry, studying, and movie-watching are highly pleasurable with rain; being indoors (ideally with windows) feels like the best place to be, the same way it does on brutally scorching days, when you’re grateful for modern conveniences and freon.

I like having the warm, sunny weather to contrast, too, but days like today, with a grumbly sky and pattering rain, are deep down my favorite.