There's something oddly comforting about hearing raindrops on your rooftop in the morning. I suppose it's mildly amusing that while I am warm, comfy and cozy underneath my thick comforter, there is a chaotic barrage of the world going on by millions of tiny drops of water. Waking up to rain never fails to ease me back into sleep. It also makes it especially hard to get out of bed when you absolutely have to be awake at an ungodly hour.
I remember hearing (or was it reading?) somewhere once that the sound of rainfall actually resembles the muffled sounds we hear inside our mother's womb before we're born. In that sense, I suppose, the sound of rain acts like a psychological security blanket. Personally, I think it's more of the strange satisfaction in knowing that amidst the cold, wetness of everything at the mercy of rainfall, I'm warm and safe under a roof. Much in the same way, I get that same feeling when I'm riding around in my car while it's raining. It's the illusion of temporary safety from the rest of the world.
Someone once said that walking in the rain can be enjoyable because it gives one a cleansing, uplifting feeling. Certainly not just cleansing in the literal sense, but in the figurative one. Rain washes away debris, and things that aren't securely adhered to other more stable objects. I can see how embracing it, letting it envelop you as you walk, can allow one to feel relieved of their thoughts. With it, the rain washes away whatever might be clouding your mind, leaving you in peace to think about, well.. nothing. For some, this may be just what they need.
The sound of raindrops on my rooftop may be comforting in a sense that I know the rest of the world's thoughts are being washed away. But perhaps I also secretly revel in the notion that under my roof and in my warm comforter, I am able to hold on to some of mine just a little bit longer.. At least, for now.
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