The Morning After

I sat outside and listened to the rain last night. There's something soothing and cleansing about it. When I was a kid and a storm would roll in, I would always have the urge to go outside and meet it. This would drive my mother nuts because the most exciting storms to watch would be the ones with the closest lightning and loudest thunder. She'd be trying to get us inside away from the windows and here I would be outside on the edge of the carport waiting for the first raindrops to fall. Of course, it didn’t help that dad was the same way because there’s nothing like a spring storm in the Midwest. They are fearful - the strength and force you know that’s coming. Most of the time a storm brings in a cold front so you can feel the wind pick up and the temperature drop, and you can hear the rain hit the leaves on the trees before you feel it on your face.
And the morning after… everything seems possible because the water washed away the junk that gathered before. The day after a storm is usually bright and cool. This morning was like that - I woke up with light streaming in my window and a breeze drifting through the apartment. It was nice not to have to rush out of bed and go to work. I could actually enjoy it. As you can tell, rain also puts me in a reflective mood. I tend to reevaluate my life and the choices I’ve made. I’ll get temporary motivation to eat better, exercise more, find another job… anything that I think has room for improvement. And then I work so hard I forget about it until the next time.