I don’t consider myself a writer. I don’t look at blogging as a profession or a hobby, though what else would it be if not either? I don’t get paid to post my works online, so it’s not a profession. So a hobby…? I didn’t think I had any to be honest. When I’m not at work, my time is spent with Fella either watching tv, playing video games, or taking the canines to the park; some pretty lame hobbies if you ask me. But now that it’s getting warmer, we’ll hopefully be going down to the river more often to kayak and tube. Now those sound like hobbies.
I’m currently sitting at a desk that I just refurbished into a vanity. It suits my need as it’s original form at the moment. How fitting? For a non-writer, I sure have the look going. Dressed in a silk gown and and robe with my laptop at my fingertips, a glass of tea situated to my left… All I’m missing is a cigarette burning on the edge of an ashtray. I only say that because I’m an old soul; I don’t actually smoke.
The dogs are passed out in my bed behind me, but quick to wake at the slightest movement from my direction. I’ve even got the mood perfect with my twinkle lights aglow, draped by the canopy netting gathered around my bed. What can I say, I like to feel like a princess when I sleep.
It’s pushing 8pm and it’s raining outside, making for a comfortably easy evening indoors. I feel my hair starting to curl from the moisture that soaked in while walking the dogs not too long ago. Like a chemical reaction happening ever so slowly, my short hair is becoming even shorter.
So why I’m I writing all of this? I guess I had been inspired to write by the rain. I got to thinking about the word dreary and how rain is unfairly associated with it’s harsh connotation.
Isn’t rain technically the complete opposite of ‘lifeless’? Rain is one of the sole sources of life on Earth. People need it. Animals need it. Plants need it. What about rain is lifeless?
Uninteresting? A compound that can take the form of a solid, liquid, or gas is not uninteresting. It’s intriguing!
Soul-destroying? Okay, now they’re just grasping at straws.
I’ve always enjoyed the rain, albeit more so when I’m at home, curled up under the covers with a cup of tea and a good book or laying in the arms of the man I love with our fur children curled up at our feet. The sound of rain is hypnotizing. The rhythmic taps on the window sill, the rustling of leaves when drops descend through the trees, the patter it makes when draining down the gutter. It’s a symphony of nature.
I have danced in a thunder storm with the love of my life. I have jumped in puddles that most would avoid. I sat through my college graduation, soaked to the bone, smiling because the cardboard cap of my ceremonial regalia took on more of the form of pizza dough that hung over my face. I’ve even ridden a roller coaster in the rain which, might I just say; very ill-advised; don’t do it. Not even after you’ve waited for 30 minutes to ride in the very front row on a brand new coaster. It’s not worth it, and it will hurt A LOT. Trust me.
I hope that the next time it rains where you are, you go out and splash in the puddles and not avoid them. I hope you think back to a fond memory and smile instead of drop your head in despair. Hell, if you think of this post the next time it rains, I’d say it’s a step in the right direction.