It’s Monday, and at last, we’re getting some much-needed rain. I must admit—I don’t just like a good rain, I love it. There’s something oddly satisfying about sitting on my glassed-in porch, watching the raindrops fall like its nature’s version of reality TV.
Most people worship the sun like it’s their personal life coach. But me? I’m perfectly content with a moody sky and a cup of something warm.
Rain doesn’t ask for cheerfulness. It grants permission to feel a little foggy, a little soft around the edges. It’s the kind of weather that lets you be quiet without apology, reflective without explanation. And if a few tears slip out? No one can tell—it’s just good camouflage.
So, if you’re wondering where I am, you’ll find me on my back porch, wrapped in the hush of falling rain, warm drink in hand, lost in a good book.
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