The rain serves as a reminder of my admiration for the little details. As I walked home from work tonight under my tiny broken black umbrella I listened to the rain patter against it. I was reminded of all of my times spent with rainy weather.
Stolen moments under the shadow of the clouds, sitting under a tin roof with a past lover listening to the thunderous roar of the weather cuddled together kissing in synchronization with the lightning strikes.
Laying under a mound of blankets in my tiny fourth floor dorm room, the walls littered with memories of the past, my bed pushed up against the window so high up that it met with the tops of the palm tree below. Listening to the rustling of the wind through the trees leaves and the rain hit my window leaving water on my window sill and linen.
My first year away from home in a city that is hardly visited by stormy weather, at the first crack of lightning hastily going up to the dormitory roof to find a taste of home, the weather that I had come so accustomed to was a spectacle for all who grew up here. I sat there in the rain many times, even when the locals became tired of the dreary weather and I was left alone on the roof top. I found solace in the cold familiar breeze which brought dozens of snails in the early morning.
The weird look I received from my roommates when I proclaimed that I was going for a walk during the hurricane as I wanted the rain to style my hair and couldn't wait for the feeling of warmth when I reentered my home and put on dry clothes as sometimes to truly understand the warmth we may receive we have to experience the cold that exists.
Times in high school when the night seemed to pass slower and I restlessly laid in bed, eventually getting out of bed bringing only a pillow and blanket to lay down next to my window to watch the rain slowly slide down the glass in a mesmerizing unison. The snow brought this comfort as well as I started a nightly routine of sleeping on my cold hard wood so that I could catch only for a moment before I drifted off to sleep the beautiful falling of snow flakes, eventually moving my entire bed to the window so that I could always see the outside weather. Focusing on just one of the many snowflakes watching it take flight to the ground, it is in the attention to details that you might find so much more. A break from the busy world, you may find a small moment where time begins to slow down.
When life becomes as gray as the weather I find myself noticing the details more often and finding the hidden beauty within them. And I don't mean the crashing of ocean waves, or a field of wild flowers although those have beauty of their own. The moments when I can't find common beauty in life I look for the details of small things, the billowing steam from a morning shower when it hits the beam of light coming through the bathroom window where you can focus on every individual molecule of water floating through the bathroom. The reflection of the orange street lights on the rain collecting on the street creating a similar illusion as the moments when the sun disappears under the horizon leaving only the dark blue ocean and increasingly dulling orange hue of the sky. The details of a person's hair when the light shines on it just right showing every depth of color, the golden undertones just peaking through. The moments of brightness that make your eyes hurt but not enough to look away, more so the light that draws you in and keeps you for just a few moments.
The details of life's beauty are most noticeable in times of dreariness when the rain pours down and you find comfort in knowing that everyone else is stuck inside their homes, not just you.