Waking up to clouds in the sky and rain puddles at your feet probably does not do much for your attitude. You are thinking about the traffic that will ensue, the water that will inevitably soak your socks and shoes, and the mist that will either frizz your curls or flatten your straight locks. All of these are the general result of a rainy day in a normally sunny state.
Waking up to clouds, though, for me has the opposite effect. Instead of dooming me, a rainy day means I will get to remember my favorite place: England.
The smells, the sounds, the feeling of raindrops upon my head or the cool breeze prickling my skin allow memories to literally “flood” back.
I can remember walking down a street sodden with rain, dodging puddles of muddy water, on my way to class. I would clamber into the classroom, instantly shrug off my rain coat and settle in for the latest lecture about the life of William Shakespeare. To learn such things in the land of the Bard, while rain gently tapped at the window, would engrain itself forever in my memory. After class a walk over to the nearest pub for hot soup and drinks with my friends would energize me enough for the reading that awaited me back at my dorm. Falling asleep as the wind blew lightly against the heavy felt curtains, the rain fell softly, and the sound of a nearby owl hooted would lull me into the deepest, most peaceful sleep of my entire life.
These rare rainy days are ones I look forward to for in them I get to time travel through my most favorite memories, reliving the most important and exciting time of my life.