Rain, Rain, Come Again

I'm sitting here on a rainy, Sunday afternoon, doing some work (yes, doing WORK!!) and realizing just how much I love the rain. I've talked to quite a few friends and we all agree that there's something about rain that is romantic, relaxing and just good for the soul. Maybe it's the symbolism of the dry earth receiving nourishment, or maybe it's the idea of our sins being washed away. Or maybe it's just because it makes you want to curl up inside and read a book or doze next to the one you love.

And there's something reassuring about the fact that it rains in Chicago just like it rains here in DC, like it rained in India (ok, they sort of have us beat with the monsoon, which I experienced when I first moved there), like it rained during my childhood in Texas. It's a constant, a known. And that's a comfort. That despite the myriad of differences between one place or another, there are, and will continue to be constants, things we just cannot escape. And that's a very, very good thing.

And really-let's be honest here- if you have to be inside during a rainy day, isn't this where you want to be? Maybe I'll find some secret passage in one of the University buildings.


Or maybe I just love the rain because it reminds me of this. That might be it.