Rainy Days

It’s raining today. I’m currently sat in the face of a gloriously huge window at my University watching myriads of students dodge the constant rainfall with umbrellas and ducking under awnings that extend over the walkway. It bothers people, here – heck, it bothers me if I’m not tucked up inside with a cup of tea tapping away at my laptop with bed socks fuzzy on my feet. But it just seems funny that no one in England ever used an umbrella when it rained, but in Sydney we seem to be lost without one. The rain puts a stop to everything – train lines get flooded and cause delays, traffic slows though there really isn’t any need for it to, and people shiver regardless of the temperature. Rainy days are slow days, and so I’m sat here writing for you, instead of finishing that pesky essay I said I would have done by this afternoon.

There’s something comforting about rainy days in England. It seems natural, almost, though it doesn’t rain quite as consistently as everyone seems to think. And you appreciate Mr. Sun even more when he decides to pop his head out from around the clouds. Sun is something I definitely take for granted in Australia. It’s so often sunny that it seems a treat when it rains, but then when you are once again afforded the restorative warmth of sun on skin, you forget why you ever wanted the safety of the dark skies.

Rainy days make me nostalgic. I feel safe when it rains, which seems a silly thing to say, but it’s true. There’s a sense of calm, and everything slows down for a moment. There was that rainy day in London when all I had was a coat pulled up over my head but I continued walking to Covent Garden and met up with him, who brought me an umbrella though I was already soaked right through; or the rain storm in Whitby when I was hiking along the cliffs edge peering over at the increasingly tumultuous sea, miles away from civilisation and very much alone between the field and the sea; or else the comforting pitter patter of heavy rain against the car as we drove through the Lake District for 8 hours, unable to get out of the car save for a few spontaneous moments where the view was just too good not to get out and experience it.

Rain’s my connection, and my comfort. I don’t think you’ll ever catch me complaining over a rainy day again.

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xx

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