Why Do I Love Rain?
I’m a sucker for rain. Even since I was a kid, I reacted to the news of an impending storm in exactly the opposite way expected for sugar-high 8 year olds. I still crack my window open on rainy nights to hear the pitter-patter of droplets on my roof.
But I only recently realized why I love the rain so much. I’m hardly alone in my admiration for rain, by the way – Woody Allen once remarked that he’d preferred it for romantic scenes in his movies, believing it connoted intimacy. Unlike Woody, however, my rationale for loving a rainy day is a bit less about love and more about growing up.
When it rains the world stops. Well, not really, but it seems that way. People flee the streets and the roads congest with slowing traffic. Of course businesses remain open and life proceeds apace, But for a moment the hustle and bustle recedes under the gray torrent of storm.
For a 20-something like myself, this is calming. An unspoken fear of many people my age is the possibility that life is passing us by, exciting things happening beyond our reach. Facebook and the companies of our friends only magnify this anxiety, confronting us with an unending list of all the parties, careers and relationships we aren’t having.
So the rain, for someone like me, is reality tapping on the breaks. A intervention from on high. An indisputable edict that every busy, buzzing thing halt for a moment.
When it rains, I’m not left behind.