The Thing About Rainy Days
A few notes on the topic.
It is currently pouring out. An hour ago, huge storms rolled in, bringing in a cold wind, a change from the incessant humid heat found lingering earlier.
Milwaukee is beautiful during summer rainstorms. Life slows down. Settings become more intimate. People tend to talk more quietly as they huddle closer together.
The streets become empty besides the few that brave the storms as they run, with something held above their head, to the nearest form of shelter.
During these moments, the outside world becomes blurry and a focus is placed on what is directly in front of us. It makes us stop and think.
To appreciate the human moments. Of crazy, hectic weather outside making people sprint faster than they every would with wet hair sticking to their foreheads, laughing at the absurdity of events. Of others who dash inside and continue their conversations, closer and at a slower pace. And of still others, strangers, who comment on the outside occurrences and offer to buy the other coffee as a response.
Only rain allows for candles to be lit during the summer months, to curl up in a blanket, enjoy a book, or watch an entire season of an old sitcom.
These are the days made for playing old records, painting with watercolors, and making potato bacon soup. Voices become softer and footsteps become more still as we watch, with our eyes wide open at the falling rain out our windows.
Rainy days mark a contrast with such difference, we are paused in our steps, jolted awake by the sudden unfamiliarity. So different from the blazing heat from the hot summer sun. The chaos of the city becomes muted by the pattering of raindrops of roofs and brick laid roads.
Musty books are cracked open and blankets shaken out. We resolve to partaking in a mystic event of observation. In which we look outside from the safety of our living room couch and watch the world covering itself in a layer of water.
When we have had enough of watching, of resting, of being, we pick up our things and head outside.
Only those willing to go out into the pouring rain do so with the intention of dancing.
And dance we do. Until the beat has fully left our tapping feet. Our hair slapped on our foreheads in streaks, our clothes fully see through, and our bodies tired.
And then we go inside. Brew up a hot cup of tea or hot chocolate. Take a warm shower. Sit on the couch once more, wrapping ourselves in a blanket, and putting on our favorite show. We light up the candles, put the finishing touches on our paintings, and take up watch.
Rainy days consist entirely of moments of pause strung together, in which we appreciate everything we have, all we have been through, and those who reside alongside us and experience it with us.
So I leave you with a question. How do you spend your rainy days?