I love a rainy day.

Rain.

I like rainy days. I know, lot of folks fall into a depressive state when they awaken to a dreary, rain soaked day. Not me. I find rain to be deeply contemplative.

There is something comforting about rain. It seems to slow my mind down. It seems to cause my body to relax. It causes me to want to stay indoors (most of the time) and be reflective. I usually don't want to get much "work" done. Rain does not usually call me to physical activity.

Rains calls to the recesses of my mind.

Rains calls for dreams.

Rains calls for pondering.

Rains calls for reminiscing.

Rains calls for solitude.

Rains calls for quiet intimacy.

Rains calls for reading provocative books.

Rain calls for soup.

Rain calls for naps.

There are rainy days when the rain calls to me in different ways. It calls me to come outside. There are times when I have a deep longing to mount my bike and go for a wet ride. There are other times when I want nothing more to tromp through the woods in the rain, soaked to the bone, enjoying the sights, smells, and sounds of the world taking a drink of refreshing water. I suppose some would consider this a masochistic desire, akin to the self-flagellation practiced by a few narrow sects of Christianity, but to me it is more appropriately compared with baptism. It is not so much that I am feeling guilty, but that I need to reorganize, straighten, or rearrange my thoughts and conceptions. I find it cleansing and refreshing to occasionally ride or walk in a soft rain.

When we lived in Louisville, Kentucky I enjoyed watching thunderstorms from our apartment window. We lived on a hill. Our apartment faced the river, looking across into Indiana. Violent storms would often sweep across the water, lighting up the sky with brilliant displays accompanied with cacophonous thunder. It was incredible! My wife would plead with me to come away from the window. She does not like storms or rain. She finds rain to be depressing - especially in the winter, more-so when she has to go outside.

Don't assume I do not like warm sunny days. I do! But every once in a while I need a rainy day. My soul needs it.

Yesterday was one of those days. It was a busy week at work and at home. It was also been a profitable week. When I woke up this morning and heard the soft patter of rain on the roof and the trickle of water navigating the gutters and downspouts I sighed, "yes." I realized I needed such a day.

I don't often take the time I need to reflect, to think, to ponder, to wonder, to plan, to analyze. But when it rains my mind automatically goes to the deeper parts of myself. I am an extrovert and need people around. I will often leave my desk - and the mounds of work there - to go and find people to talk with and listen to. But on days like yesterday I became more of an introvert. I don't necessarily avoid people, but I seek alone time. I run errands. I read. I swivel my desk chair away from the door, away from the computer, away from the desk to look out of the window at the rain dripping off of the branches of the bare dogwood tree. I might even close my door just to have some uninterrupted time.

Eddy Rabbit used to sing, "I love a rainy night;" not me. I love a rainy day.