I love rain.
For the past day it's been raining at my college and it makes me so happy. Yesterday when walking back to my room I just stopped on the sidewalk and lifted my head towards the sky. Feeling the drops fall on my face and roll down the skin. I love the appearance of rain the small clear balls of rain falling from the sky, illuminated by the street lamps or by the dark of the night. Every time it rains I have to be outside. I normally stand in the rain until my hair is drenched and plastered against my forehead, my eyeliner is running down my face, and my clothes start to stick to my body. Some of my best memories were in downpours, running around in the backyard with a group of friends, dancing in the rain, doing cartwheels and somersaults, and playing red rover even though everyone's hands kept slipping because of the water. I've always wanted to get one of those cheap plastic pools and fill it with water and just jump in it when it's down pouring. I've always wanted to attempt to wash my hair in the rain and see how far I get. I've always wanted to kiss someone I care about in a down pour. And someday all those things I want to do are things I'm going to do.
I always find it fascinating how people attempt to describe rain and why it happens. One of my favorite ways is the saying that when it rains the angel's are crying. I find that oddly poetic, just the imagery of angel's crying. In my mind Angel's are mighty creatures, full of justice and vengeance, holy, warriors, and guardians. What could possibly cause those great creatures to cry? The fact that Angel's would show that suppose sign of weakness and not be ashamed of it. It makes me go wow. Or rain to me is mother nature's sign of life. Everything on this earth needs water to survive. Everyone sees rain as a nuisance but without it the grass wouldn't turn green, the trees wouldn't grow, and the flowers we admire wouldn't bloom. It's mother's nature way of waking up the earth.
My love for rain probably stems for my love of water and swimming. For three years I swam all four seasons, spring, summer, fall, and winter with no break in between. I loved swimming, what I didn't love was going to practice for two hours everyday and the competitiveness of the sport. I didn't swim to beat someone's time or even my own time. I swam because I needed it. I swam because without it my thoughts would have consumed me. I was drowning in everything else and I needed something real in my life. Air was too thin, to abstract. I knew it was around me but I couldn't feel it, it didn't support me. But water, water you could feel. If you ever just stop and stand or lay in the water you can feel it moving against your skin. When you submerge yourself you can feel it mold to the shape of your movements, you can feel your hair spreading out taken by the currents, you feel weightless. And when you swam and sliced the water you could feel it churning around you. Water was my support, my one constant during that time. But I'm far away from that time now. After I made myself see things differently I didn't need that support or constant, I no longer needed the endless thoughtless drills where I didn't think of anything else. And my dislike of the sport started to show and so I quit. I miss it, I miss the drone of swimming but I'd never do it competitively again. But every now and then when I need that feel of something surrounding me or something real I find myself once again at the edge of a body of water, whether that be a pool, a lake, an ocean, or the quarries I always go to.
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