Rainy Days
Rain didn’t phase me as much as a child as it does now. I had a 15-minute walk scheduled for seven this morning, but it was drizzling. Little me would not have cared about a light smattering of raindrops. Back then, I would have played basketball in a downpour. Now, having to choose whether to grab a rain jacket made it a hard stop. I am not The Old Man and the Sea.
At camp, we used to run across a long field to our bunk, hoping not to get struck by lightning. It didn’t help that our counselor laughed and threw plums at us at high speed. But this is the difference between youth and abject adulthood. No adult chooses to run in a field to avoid lightning while another adult throws fruit at them. Maybe on Squid Game.
I never found rainy days depressing, even when all I wanted to do was play basketball. I had a ring-a-bell hoop in my room that spawned many solitary leagues, and I had board games. Later, I had an IBM PC Jr. to keep my eyes averted from storms and focused on Micro League Baseball. Rain has always felt cozy to me. The sound of raindrops on a roof. Thunder and lightning, preferably without high-speed winds. It’s a mood board.
Driving in power storms isn't much fun. I know what hydroplaning feels like, so I never drive fast in the rain. I never really drive fast at all, but other people fray both ends of the driving speed spectrum in a rainstorm. Petey drives his F-100 at 70 in the left lane because he can. Betty pulls over under an overpass in a three-drop drizzle fest. Everyone has their own shit going on.
I don’t know why rain is associated with melancholy. For an introvert, rain can cancel outdoor plans, and for that, we are forever grateful. Someone canceled a showing on one of my listings this weekend due to the weather forecast. It ended up not even raining. I was annoyed for my client, but I understood. Give me an excuse, and I will take it. Rain over me.
© Jonathan Greene, September 28, 2026
