What Rainy Winter Morning Feels Like? Brrr…
I removed the blinds and woke up to an idyllic, cold November morning in a quaint countryside. It had rained the previous night. The mist had descended like a bridal veil waiting to be lifted by the mellow rays of the sun and the tree leaves were festooned with silvery, dew drops. The verdant landscape is wet and brimming with freshness. My little chirpy winged friends were nowhere in sight. They might have snoozed their alarm or might be perched in some corner under a canopy, waiting patiently for the azure sky. The tiny squirrels were sidestepping the dents in the ground and manoeuvring around the puddles to fill their food reserves for a seemingly endless rainy day.
The crepuscular rays sneaked in through the tiny openings of the grey sky for a few seconds only to hide again. The cumulonimbus clouds were preparing for another round of downpour. The daylight dimmed suddenly like the occurrence of an eclipse and the surroundings became eerily beautiful. A light drizzle started and the tiny droplets of rain began weaving strings of droplets in my window.
I curled up like a ball in my fleecy blanket. Unconsciously I opened my window ajar to take the smell of petrichor but immediately regretted. I let out a shriek. A cold, piercing morning breeze gushed inside and left me in shivers. I recoiled and swaddled up with a quilt making sure that there is not any tiny gap for the cold air to sneak in. I frantically searched for my earmuffs. As the soft sounds of raindrops hitting my rooftops became louder so did the emergence of the tiny, fleeting goosebumps in my hands became faster. For a pluviophile like me, the soft sounds of raindrops are like an ASMR. You feel calm and you enter into a state of retrospection.
But as people say, excess of everything is bad.
And so, I don't want to catch winter blues.
And therefore, I run to get my hot cup of coffee.
-Rumi
