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Why I Love the Rain

My mom always tells me I’m weird because I just LOVE rain. She always thinks that since I like to be outside doing things, I should hate rain the way that she does. Maybe I love the rain because it reminds me of Chile. After all, where we lived, our winter was in what are the summer months in the United States, and during June and July we got tons of rain.

We had sunny days too in Chile, though. If it’s just nostalgia, why don’t I love sunny days as much as I love rainy ones?

I think it’s because I am so active that I love rain. That sounds weird, but let me put it this way. When it’s rainy, you don’t feel like you need to be outside. You can sit inside, cuddle up in a blanket and watch dumb old movies without feeling guilty, like there are other things to do.

You can sleep in if it’s cloudy enough and it feels like you’re not missing out on anything.

And at night, when I hear thunderstorms and the rain is pounding away on my roof, I just snuggle up in my blankets, feeling safe and secure away from the storm.

Anyway, don’t storms make you feel lucky to have shelter? Don’t they make you feel lucky to have beautiful days with plenty of sunshine? You have to have the rain to appreciate the sunshine, right?