butterfly

I used to love rainy days. I mean LOVED them. I would actually get a little happy on the days it rained while everyone else I knew was moping about. I think it had to do with the sadness that was in me that I hadn’t yet realized. I relished the idea that on rainy days, everyone was inside, shelled up and holding courting until the sun came back. On rainy days, everyone was doing what I was doing on every other day. On those days, we were same. I longed for rainy days.

Rainy days now are a nuisance. Sometimes I relish them and the quiet and go-inside-and-read-a-bookness they harbor, but mostly the running in and out of buildings with an umbrella or the lack of one gets on my nerves. I’d take the sunshine over rainy days any day now.

We’ve had a very dry summer and dry fall here. Rain has graced our city a handful of times in the last four months. It’s like LA took a cross-country trip and settled in. And it’s a little disorienting. Last week, though, Virginia regained its gloomy days and stayed under a cloudy haze. Virginia decided to mimic my brain. So, I shelled up and held court until the sun came out and then some. And today, I feel a little bit like a butterfly released from his safe and warm home. Today, I saw the sunshine and let it sit upon my face for a bit. It doesn’t mean I won’t return to my cocoon, but for now, I’m lovin’ this sunshine, this fall.