If there's one complaint I have about San Diego, it's that we don't get enough of it.
I've been thinking about the glorious storms I've seen in Michigan, England and Ireland--sovereign forces that take you by the throat with no mercy. Those kind of storms get me giddy and frightened to the point of goosebumps, just like all the worth-while things in life.
And maybe that's why I adore rain. It reminds me of being human, being a part of the whole. I'm always that girl who forgoes the umbrella in hopes of getting completely drenched, laughing at those scurrying under the false hope of a newspaper or overhang. They hurriedly try to keep themselves put together, while mother nature is begging them to let go of control. Don't they know how good it feels to just let the rain fall down on you? To let your hair get ruined and your make-up smeared?
I have visions of sitting on a porch in Georgia, rocking in my chair as a chorus of rain plays me a symphony. Or of strolling in Paris with a painted sky of gray, because you know that's a city made for a rainy day. Or of dancing in a wild Irish field as the rain accompanies my aloofness.
Are these premonitions? I hope so.
I want the rain and thunder and excitement to sweep into my life soon. I want to twirl as the sky falls around me. I want to be in it.
***
P.S. I wrote this post about a week ago, and guess what? The skies opened up and poured down rain for a good two days this week. Obviously my request was heard! And OBVIOUSLY I took a nice long walk in the rain and it felt oh-soooooo-good.
***
P.S. I wrote this post about a week ago, and guess what? The skies opened up and poured down rain for a good two days this week. Obviously my request was heard! And OBVIOUSLY I took a nice long walk in the rain and it felt oh-soooooo-good.
