Saturday mornings aren’t usually stormy. We think of the weekend as a sunny space, full of promise that leads to fulfillment and productivity. However, when it pours, there is often less distraction. With any luck, the comfort of a hot cup of tea will morph into caffeinated focus. The elements prevent us from running hither and yon. We are forced to remain indoors and deal with the task at hand.
When the stormy Saturday morning happens to land on the first morning of your vacation, this can either be a disaster and portend of doom-filled days ahead, or fire you up with such enthusiasm, giddiness and high emotion that you feel you are capable of anything and everything. Of course, you must announce this on every available social media channel, albeit in varied ways in order to keep it fresh. (But face it, you don’t even fool yourself.)
The thunder makes the bed nest even cosier. It’s as though nature is encouraging guilt-free exploration of the internets. I land upon a photo of the most exquisite lavender honey-glazed duck. It is not even remotely attainable, but perhaps a drive in the car to find out whether locally produced gourmet, gluten-free pop tarts live up to the hype could be a quick fix. It turns out that the best way to say on track is to eat leftover peach pie (also locally produced and within walking distance) and pick up your library books. Yes, the latter does involve going outside, but opportunity happens to fall within the only dry-ish window of the day. More books can only make a rainy day better, especially if they are free.
The thing about rainy days is that they drastically cut down on fear of missing out. They level the playing field somehow and feel like a fresh start. (I am a huge fan of the fresh start.) Today I can turn my life around without distraction … that is, as long as I either put my phone into someone else’s safekeeping or drive out of range. Anyway, grand plans for renewal are hatched, announced and then even pursued. Painting gear is laid out, a new sock has been cast on, requisite number of words has been entered … the rain has not let up. In fact, it beats more strongly on the tin roof. It speaks to you directly. This muse is stronger than the rest and reminds you that a vacation nap is as glorious as life can possibly get. That nature’s concert is best enjoyed with one’s eyes closed. That in order to truly honour the giver of this gift, one must give in to its rhythms.
There is nothing better than a rain-wracked Saturday if it falls on your first full day of renewal.