Rainy Days

Today’s blog is coming to you from the temperamental and indecisive weather of Iowa. Yesterday we enjoyed a swift and surprising catapult into summer. The day hit a humid 82 degrees, and a 2-3 hour walk around campus was not only bearable, but thoroughly enjoyable. The pedestrian mall in downtown was packed—people eating froyo, people reading books, children playing on the jungle gym—and all of the good grassy spots on campus were occupied by sunbathers or frisbee players. It was beautiful and warm and everything we’ve been dreaming about for the past four months of eternal winter.

The night, however, was all thunderstorms. Even with my blinds closed, I could see the lightning. Today has been continually rainy as well.

The thing is, I don’t mind. It’s likely a product of being raised in Seattle, but a good rainy day makes me just as happy as a good sunny day. A complete list of all of the things I love about the rain is impossible to produce, but a few of the highlights are:

–          The smell, earthy and metallic at the same time

–          The sound of rain on the ground when it falls lightly and then gradually picks up into a storm

–          The sound of cars driving over puddles and wet pavement

–          Spending quality time with a good book

–          Hot chocolate, tea, or coffee while watching the rain

I have never owned an umbrella. One of the little-known facts about Seattle is that umbrellas are generally for tourists; true natives will rarely resort to such measures. As a result, I have grown to love the feeling of running through the rain with just a hood or, even better, with nothing on my head at all. Given the particularly bad cold that’s struck me this weekend, I’m trying to refrain from this particular activity, but it’s still tempting. I’ll still indulge in the book reading, though (I stopped by the library yesterday and checked out something I’d never even heard of on a whim).

Even though the setting is a bit different—last night I amused myself by listening to drunken screams as a full-on rainstorm hit without warning—it’s nice to know that, even 2000 miles away, I still have a little slice of home with me here.


Spot the Seattleite.

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