It is cold.
The normal frigid Chicago winters with feet of snow have warmed to bring slush and rain.
The rain. uggghh. Pouring down. Flooding all the little nooks and crannies. Unescapable. Overwhelming. Rushing to and fro trying to dodge it. The rain always comes.
As far as weather rain goes, I love it because of course, I know it means life. I have always been fascinated in the water cycle and earth’s beautiful rejuvenation. I hardly ever complain of rain, It sustains us. Rain is what makes the green-grass-carpet to lay in and the waving green leaves to rock-a-bye to in the shade during the summer. I love the rain.
But man, as far as life goes- the rain. Constant crying, sorrow, heartache, death… unexplainable, unfair, unavoidable, pain? It is a little harder to know for certain that this cycle of rain will end in spring. But it must, right? Just like the seasons of never ending gloom that winter brings and changes to blossoming spring, that is what is coming next? It has to be? I cant find a way to love this.
So, I am looking forward to spring. Looking forward to blossoming flowers. Because man its been raining alot here.