I like rainy days. I know most people find them dreary and depressing, but I find a strange sort of comfort in the low hanging clouds and the drizzling rain.
The other day I experienced the peaceful joy of hearing rain dancing off of a tin roof. On days like that I can sit in a car for hours just listening to the rain and watching it streak down the glass making new patterns. There is something dreamy and almost myth-like to dreary days. I some how feel closer to the earth and farther away from reality at the same time.
Rainy days put me in the mood for snuggling on the couch with a mug of steaming coffee and a really good book or musing on a good story idea. I think my muse likes to stay in on rainy days and brag about all the things she has done on the sunny days. I want to write all of her ideas down and tell all her stories.
Unfortunately, most rainy days I have to get up and go to work in an office that has no windows. Most week days I don’t even know if it is raining or sunny or freezing or warm.
A good day at home with the rain prattling on the windows and cozy feeling of dry house and lots of warm blankets is worth more than ten sunny days.
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