Rain

I don’t think I’ve ever truly disliked the rain. At worst, I’ve been indifferent to it, too preoccupied with everyday life to notice it falling. But more often, I’ve seen it as a net positive: a welcome visitor during the dry spells of a southern Swedish summer, or an unexpected guest at a midsummer party, arriving in a downpour that leaves us laughing helplessly.

There is something liberating about the things we cannot control. This summer, I want to remember to miss the rain when it’s gone, and delight in it when it comes. To feel fourteen again, wandering through rain-soaked Paris, convinced I was the heroine of a romantic comedy. And when I return home drenched, I still hope someone will take one look at me and say, “Oh dear, you really got soaked! Come on, let’s make hot chocolate.” Then we’ll sit together, listening to the raindrops against the window, quietly smiling.