I’m a sucker for rainy days. It’s not that I lack sunshine in my soul, nor do I reject the notion of spending my summer days frolicking in the warm, balmy breeze. It’s just that I gravitate toward gray skies and misty mornings. In this life, I am not a Winnie-the-Pooh; I am an Eeyore. And I like it that way. I live for thunderstorms… They prompt me to pour a glass of wine and stare at the fat droplets sliding down our windowpanes like tears. I watch the deluge hit our driveway, spreading out into rivulets and cascading down the hill until it spills into the creek behind our house. It takes my anxieties along with it. Gloomy days elicit something serene and magical inside of me. They make me long to curl up under a billowy blanket with my husband, dogs and daughter; to cuddle while we listen to the lightning crackle and hiss. They are the days I write songs and read poems about. In fact, the following Dorothy Parker stanza is a favorite of mine:
I am sister to the rain;
Fey and sudden and unholy,
Petulant at the windowpane,
Quickly lost, remembered slowly.
Even as a child, I was intrigued by ominous, cloudy days. I would hunker down with a good mystery novel (most often Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys), and relish in the spine-chilling weather. When there wasn’t any thunder or lightening, I would run outside to twirl around in the front yard and feel the first sprinkles gently graze my face. Liquid sunshine, I tell you. At the age of six, I even wrote a little ditty (my ode to the rain, I suppose) that can be heard at the beginning of my first album, Breathing Room. It goes like this:
Little pollywoggy, sitting in the foggy, listening to the birds that sing;
Little pollywoggy, now a froggy woggy, waiting for what spring will bring;
Little froggywoggy, feeling kind of soggy, found out what the spring did bring.
Rain. The spring brought showers and, even as a six year-old, I embraced the downpour! I can’t wait until my daughter is old enough to join me in spinning outside under the drizzling canopy. I hope she appreciates what the rain does for the earth, our garden, and our souls. I can already picture her out there, splashing in puddles and catching raindrops on the tip of her tongue. I hope the rain stirs and inspires her, as it does me… I hope she’s a lifelong member of the rainy day club.
Until next time… Peace, Love, & Dirty Diapers,
Jenna von Oy
PS. Don’t forget to follow me on Twitter!
PPS. A special thanks to It’s Vintage, Baby in Franklin, TN, for letting me photograph the fun horse Wellies!