With finals finally behind me, I am home once again, and, as usual, a little bored. Today it is rainy and stormy and pouring and gray...which doesn't really help improve the state of one's spirits. But as I sat here bemoaning the uncooperative weather, I remembered something I wrote for an assignment back in ninth grade, so long ago. I went back to my files and looked it up, and since it cheered me up, I figured I would share it with you, in hopes that it might also help anyone else experiencing the rainy day blues.
So here it is, my descriptive paragraph of days of yore:
There is nothing that gives me more of a sense of comfort than a rainy day. The rhythmic patter of the rain on the roof has a hypnotic quality. Sitting in front of a blazing fire, I feel its warmth as the flames make patterns on the wall. They are shadows, leaping up and down in a harmonious, never-ending dance. I hold a steaming cup of hot chocolate in my hands, and as I sip it, my tongue is filled with the taste of its warm, rich, sweetness. I swallow, and it soothes and calms me. I sit curled up on the sofa, and pick up a good book. I eagerly turn the pages, and as I lose myself in tales of strange lands and people I will never meet, I know that I am free from harm, safe and secure, warm in my house. Outside, the rain gets harder and beats mercilessly against the windowpanes. But it does not affect me because I am sheltered, protected, comfortable. The sound of the rain does not wane, and soon I can no longer keep my eyes open. As I fall asleep, a deep sense of satisfaction and happiness envelops me. Home is bliss, on a cold, rainy winter’s day.
