A series where I write about my favourite things – basically posts where I spend way too many words describing mundane shit that make me unreasonably happy.
I don’t love the feeling of rain on my skin.
I know it’s supposed to be one of the last old-school pleasures. Getting drenched in the rain should take me to a happier time, one of innocence and joy and splashing about in puddles and making paper boats by the dozen.
It reminds me of dark skies, and crashing, startling thunder. Of mournful lunch breaks where, instead of playing in the grass, we would be huddling in the narrow corridors, eating our soggy sandwiches and cursing the weather (The sandwiches were always soggy, not just during the rain).
It reminds me of getting drenched through and through, and of the biting winds that would rattle me to my bones. I’d walk back home, bent under the weight of my heavy clothes and canvas bag that was now soaked. I’d be too worried about my books getting wet to jump in puddles.
Things would change, however, when I would push open the big iron gates and walk through. My pace would quicken, and I’d hurry to slip into the covered landing where finally, finally, the rain couldn’t touch me anymore.
Getting wet in the rain is not something I love. Getting out of it however, is absolutely delightful.
The clothes come off with the faintest of suction, and drop into the ground like the heavy weights they are. The towel is dry, and crisp, and leaves me cool but not wet. Slight moisture on my skin steams in the welcoming warmth of the indoors. Freed from the insistent, pelting pressure of raindrops, I can finally appreciate the lullaby-like quality of its gentle thrum. My glasses are finally clear, no rivulets running through them and making the world a blurry mess. My skin feels dry and tingles. Someone is making coffee, and the aroma combines with the petrichor to create something new and familiar. I feel alive again, as I pour myself a cup and settle into my favourite chair, right by the window.
I do love the rain after all. Just not when I’m in the middle of it.