On this rainy morning, a new word in my vocabulary bank. How did I not know this word, a word that describes me so perfectly? I will add it to my author bios: pluviophile-a lover of rain, a finder of peace in rainy days.
When I was young, my mother would call me in from the branches of my secret apple tree nook when the drops began their descent. Her call was easy to ignore, and I would nestle a bit deeper and watch the sky change hues and try to count the droplets.
As an adult, in charge of my own self, I no longer climb into trees, leaving that to my younger mini-me. However, when I wake to soothing drops on shingled roof overhead, a smile begins even before my eyes open wide.
Rainy days promise hot mugs of coffee, snuggled in chocolate brown softness of my couch nest, pen in hand, words flowing across the pages.
Rainy days make for sleepy dogs, peaceful hours of watching the latest novel unfold in my mind as I read hundreds of pages in a sitting.
Hi, my name is Kristine, and I am a pluviophile. It sounds like the opening act of a support group, but this isn’t a condition that needs fixing.