Today, it rains. Not a dull, cold rain, but a vibrant splashing on the windows, water pouring from the sky, a promise of a greener tomorrow. I love sunshine to death, but there is something to be said for a good downpour. It is like a cleansing, a baptism for the earth. It's beautiful. Rain also gives me this slight sense of melancholy. Not in a bad way, but rather melancholy with a certain sweetness to it. The kind that makes you want to curl up in a blanket and read poetry. So I did just that. After taking Margot out and getting thoroughly drenched, I toweled myself off, made myself a cup of tea and headed upstairs to my bedroom. I lit a few candles, played my favorite Bon Iver album, For Emma, Forever Ago, and simply burrowed myself in blankets with my book of John Keats poetry. Oh, how delightful it is to feel so warm and safe inside your room as the rain pounds against the windows. I also pulled out my woolen socks, one of the only things I miss about winter right now. After reading a few of my favorite poems and feeling delightfully melancholy, I opened my well-worn moleskin journal and wrote about this glorious rainfall and the magic in poetry. It was certainly a lovely afternoon.
There was also a bit of thunder, which exhilarated me but unfortunately scared Ellie, my other dog, half to death. She was shaking and trembling on my lap as the thunder rolled across the sky. I managed to snap this photo of her though, amidst all of her panic. She's such a cutie, although not usually the photogenic one of the two. I love her to death though.
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