Gray

It rains. It rains and rains and rains. And then, it rains more. The trees whistle with the wind, and the water pooling on the streets splash onto the sidewalks because of the passing cars. Umbrella covered people in rain boots infest the sidewalks. The hood of my coat shields the top half of my vision, so I am left to stare at the ground while walking. 

The bus windows are fogged with condensation, and the bus is dark because outside is only pale, dark colors. People seem more irritable. Everyone just wants to be out of the rain, so they push and shove more often to run away from the gloom of outside. 

It’s dark when I wake up. It’s getting dark when I start homework. 

It’s gray. Always gray. 

Rarely, the days are crisp and sunny like Massachusetts' October. Instead, the days are foggy, gray, and wet. I am forced to stand at least ten feet away from the streets while waiting to cross in order to ensure I won't be splashed by the passing cars. 

But in this dark, gloomy time of year that apparently lasts until March, people continue to live. People know how to deal with the constant cycle of darkness, like residents of Alaska know how to deal with with snow and ice. Or how people of the tropics know how to deal with heat and sun.

Happiness that does not rely on weather seems like a process that is impossible to master. Especially when it comes to rain. 

You have to push yourself to not become depressed. How can you not cry if the sky is crying? Well, I've learned, you must try to take a walk in between rain showers, and buy flowers for the windows in your house even if they die quickly with the lack of light. You go to cinemas, libraries, museums, and shows with your friends. Buy hot, seasonal drinks. Admire the foliage until the leaves fall. And when the leaves fall, you try to admire the icicles left on the tree limbs.

It’s easier to master when busy. When there are tests and events to focus on.

I never understand when people get exciting when it’s dark, wet and cold outside. In all honesty, I don’t see how it’s even healthy to like such weather. I understand when it rains for the first time in weeks how it's almost exciting, but when it’s rainy for weeks, there seems no way to love it. The rain becomes deserving of neglection and scolding. 

The only reasonable case for liking rainy weather, seems to be when there is nothing else to do. Then, it becomes the perfect weather to bake cookies and watch movies without feeling guilty about the amount of cookies you ate or the number of hours you wasted watching movies. What else could you do on a rainy day?

We are all creatures of the sun. The sun allows us to thrive and wake up each morning. It seems only natural to become disoriented when it disappears.

But what I admire here is how people move on from the dread of the gray. I understand that is the only way they could possibly survive, but it is hard for me to adapt to. The locals are unphased. They know the routine. They know how to always carry on. Where to buy the flowers and the best umbrellas. Now the challenge is to temporarily become a local. To temporarily become comfortable with the gray.