Rainy Days

I don't know what is it about rainy days that makes me so nostalgic. I love the fresh scent of earth and the gray hue that becomes the backdrop to every scene. My mind seems to transcend into a time far before I was born. A time where Jane Austen characters were the everyday crowd and we all spoke in poetry.

I want to find a window sill and curl up with a book or write a letter. ( As if anyone even writes letters anymore). I find my mood throughout the day is comfortable and content. I wonder how the rain's magic is able to work on me as it does the earth. I like to think that a rainy day is a chance to douse my pages of worry till they get a little soggy, and easy to mold into a ball that is able to roll away and leave me knowing I have other things to admire and remember. And as the rain disperses and the sun returns the ball will dry and what was written on those pages will be illegible.