Rain

Rain. Miserable. Rain.
It keeps coming. Never stopping. Never letting up. Persistence is the game. Grey skies. Muggy streets. Puddles that splash. Cars that drench. Wind breaking umbrellas.

I know that rain nourishes the land, fills our rivers and lakes, and is a life giver to all flora and fauna. But why does it have to rain in succession, day after day, never taking a break, not even for lunch. It weakens my spirit, tests my resolve, and restricts my movement, crushes my plans, ruins my coats, stains my shoes.
I am a whiner at times, I know it, and anyone who knows me knows it. I am a happy person, always thinking the best of people, or situations, but some things get me in such a funks that make me feel like a piece of rotten wood, still the same on the outside, but decayed on the inside. Rain does that. It hides from me the thing I love the most, the sun. And honestly I whine rarely, I tend to suck things up, or so I think, feel free to be honest.
Last weekend, it was sunny, for a few hours on Saturday morning. It was perfect. I was ready for that Saturday, I would make the most of the sunshine, I would enjoy the day to its fullest. Go for a run, walk around the city, sit in a cafe outside and read a paper. Instead by the time I made it home from the market, the grayness took over, the sun was stolen from me. It threatened to rain, but the clouds did not follow through, and it was just gray for a few days. Then Monday evening on my way home from the gym I noticed something, the temperature dropped, and quickly, usually it is warmer after a workout cause my blood is flowing and I am all pumped up, but not this time, I stepped outside and it was chilly as if I had entered a meat cooler, and right then and there I knew what was coming. Sure enough it began to rain, and it has not stopped yet, it is not hard rain, or fat rain, or another kind of rain that Forest Gump described, unless you really paid attention and remember that rain that last for months, the monsoon, and well this is not a monsoon, but in my mind it is.
Miami has rain, it is furious, it comes down hard and fast, umbrellas are useless as the splashes from the ground get you soaked, and the rain comes from all directions, so you will get wet. But the rain comes and goes, it never lingers, it does its job in an efficient manner. Here the rain has that Mediterranean spirit, work for 10 minutes, go easy, work 10 minutes, go easy, take a break (but not an official one, so keep drizzling in the slightest), work hard for 20 minutes, and then ease up again, and so on and on. It is funny, but the way the rain falls here corresponds to the pace of life, it is slow, no one is in a rush, and everything can be resolved, slowly. Miami, everyone is in a rush, nothing can wait 5 minutes, and if you are not going full speed you fell like your life is passing you by. I know most think, well the beach is relaxing, well no its not, it is active, barbeque, football, soccer, carrying a heavy cooler full of beer, swimming, sure you take a nap here and there, but you always feel more exhausted when you come home from the beach then you did going to the beach.
Rain. Miserable. Rain.

The cold wind welcoming me

I am a warm person, that is to say, I like it warm. I love being hot. I have dreaded the cold for a long time, and I was quite scared I would never be able to adapt to it. To my total surprise yesterday I had a moment. I LOVED the feeling of a cold wind on my face, and the relentless pound of lil wayne on my eardrums, made me aware, that for the first time in my life I was enjoying the cold. The wind chilling my cheeks and stiffening them, my hands white and slowly turning pink, and yet there I was dancing my way down the street (in a manner that would have jenny pretending she did not know me had she seen me) and not caring bout anything in the world. Save for that cold wind and finally accepting it, and loving it.

It has not been an easy transition to leave paradise and all of its wonders-that I tried to never take for granted but like everyone else there I did-and start anew in a foreign place that was home but did not feel like home. Though if I have learned anything in these last 3 years of life it is that any place can be home as long as you let it be. There is no shortage of people in this world who will do all they can to help you and make you feel as comfortable as possible anywhere you happen to be. The key though is embracing that feeling and making your own home wherever you are.