Rain

It's raining. Sometimes I love the rain, when it's warm out and it feels more like a shower. These days it's as cold as it can get and still be rain and not snow. And it just makes me long for snow. Rather than a cold and gray, dark and dreary day, the sky would be bright, and whiteness would fall down gently, gently, not hard like water but soft as a blanket. The dark streets and empty trees would feel loved again by white pearls. And I would walk for miles in the cold, all bundled up in my hat and my scarf, and enjoy the way the path is changing before me every step, the tread under my feet gets higher and crunches more and more, and everything is quieter, holding its breath. Such a contrast from the rain, which pelts its way down onto the roof and demands it be heard and noticed, as much as we all just want to ignore it.
I'm longing for the first snow.