Rain

When I was in elementary school, we had recess outdoors almost every day. I liked playing on the monkey bars or the swings, but I was never athletic enough to succeed in playing Tag (what the "cool" kids did), and though I was alright at Four Square, nobody ever stayed in the game for long. I welcomed the days when it rained; rain meant we got to stay in the classroom and have recess inside. I loved that- I could play dominoes or cards with my friends, or read a book. I loved rainy days. Rainy days also meant that I'd get picked up from school; I wouldn't have to walk home.

I went to sleep-away camp for nine (yes, nine) years (various camps), and I always loved rainy days. Sure, it meant no horseback riding, but sometimes the rain would start when I was in the swimming pool (which, despite being- without fault- freezing, was always kind of fun), and instead of having to go to activities I dreaded like kickball, volleyball, or worse- tennis, I could spend all day making clay pots in pottery, or stringing necklaces in arts and crafts.

For the first three years of high school, I rode the bus, and drove myself my senior year. I managed to avoid formal gym class by taking three years of dance and one year of "independent study". Rain didn't mean much to me in high school.

In the summers of 2008 and 2009, I worked as a counselor at a day camp, teaching arts and crafts and swimming lessons. But this was the only camp possibly in the country with an indoor pool, so still, rain didn't mean much. I didn't hate it, but it didn't really change my day at all.

But then I got to college, and suddenly I was walking to "school" (well, to class, the dining hall, the bookstore, cheerleading practice, and my sorority house) every day. And this is in Cleveland, where it rains... a lot. I learned quickly to always carry an umbrella with me, even if I was just walking to the cafeteria. I still don't like rain, but I'm used to it. Back in the very beginning of the school year, I was walking to work with an extra pair of jeans in my backpack so I could change, and it was raining so hard that when I went to change after work, I found out my jeans had been soaked (and yes, they were IN my backpack, and I had an umbrella). Towards the end of the year, though, I went and danced in the rain. It wasn't freezing out, and I had nothing to do- so I went outside (well, I didn't quite dance) in the rain for awhile. My hair, which had been straight, was ruined, my feet were dirty from not wearing shoes, and I was soaked.

It felt amazing.