Buckets of Rain

Every time it rains, my mood gets better, usually no matter what. It’s not proportionate – last night it rained so much my “backyard” had standing water, but I didn’t have standing happiness. Sometimes it’s a complete pick-me-up, or at the very least, it’s a little bump.

It rained all night yesterday. That’s a rarity here. I woke up several times and it was raining. It’s such a good feeling to wake up, hear the rain, and go right back to sleep. Especially with thunder and lightning. It hasn’t really rained a whole lot in any of the places I’ve been in the past 4 years.

There’s something so interesting about precipitation, without it really every being attention grabbing, unless it’s a disaster. Even then, tornadoes, floods, blizzards, ice storms, are all way more interesting than a clear sunny day. The different anger levels of thunder, the different sounds rain makes, the varying levels and types of clouds. It’s something that passes through my brain without adding too much burden. There’s no brain power required to process that it’s raining.

Maybe I’m just starting to miss things I grew up with. Maybe I just like the rain. Even when the rain floods an entire street because the town has no sewers because it doesn’t rain enough here nor do the people have enough money for the town to tax to warrant sewers, instead funneling all the rain into the streets with one street being the entire town’s rain runoff catcher and when it pours this street, which can hold at least four cars abreast even though how can you tell since there’s no paint on the road, is entirely – from curb to curb – underwater, despite also having a huge depression down the middle of it…well damn if that isn’t more interesting than a perfect sunny day.

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