Oh, how I wish for Spring to come. How I wish for the light breezes to pick up. I wish for the icy streams to melt into gushing, rushing, gurgling, bubbling, giggling brooks. I wish for the green grass to rise again.
I wish for my time again to be free. Winter humbles me. Winter makes me feel more of a need to exult myself, and so I come across as ostentatious, conceited, and obnoxious. I don't like winter. I don't like the burns of heavy winds. I don't like the weightless snows merging together to form a heavy burden, weighing me down. I struggle against it, and because I struggle, it constricts me more, making me just struggle even more.
Spring is a new beginning. It comes and clears the air, and sets the scene for summer to come. It's a nice break between freezing cold and burning hot. It makes the extremes, seem less extreme. Spring makes me feel renewed. Spring brings rain, and I like rain. I love rain. I cherish rain. Rain brings a new meaning to the dry earth. Rain brings rebirth and new ideas. Rain brings wishing for more rain, and that makes rain more special, because rain is rare.
This is why I love Bloomington. I would never want to live in Seattle. But I love rain. This would confuse people. But if I had rain in my world, every day of my life, I wouldn't like it as much. I would see it as a wet bother, soaking me to the core. It would bring bone-rattling anger to me that I had another day of rain. But here, the rain is quiet, subtle, and kind. The rain makes me feel special that I get to experience it. Rain makes me feel whole, and new. Rain brings new ideas to my head. Rain makes me feel like I have a chance to start over and be who I want to be, even if I want to be the same person I wanted to be when the last rain came.
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