This past weekend, we had milky white skies and drizzling spring rain. It doesn't sound too bad, does it? Milky white. Drizzles. It smelled good too, and helped emphasizing the light green leaves on the trees.
One thing struck me, however: just a few weeks ago, before the temperature started raising (and last fall, definitely last fall), rain, however innocent and light, was definitely not embraced with the indulgent and tender loving that I witnessed this weekend. If the weather was wet, the skies were called grey, regardless of their actual color. (Milky white... Ha! That's definitely a romanticizing spring construction). And regardless of the quantity and texture of the rain, there was never any talk about "drizzles". I recall it being called just "rain" or even "[bad word] rain". (Yeah, I know. Foul language isn't very attactive at all. But you see, I'm a product of my parents. Thus far, if I drop something by mistake or fall down, I will blurt out a "SIT". Just like mom.)
One thing struck me, however: just a few weeks ago, before the temperature started raising (and last fall, definitely last fall), rain, however innocent and light, was definitely not embraced with the indulgent and tender loving that I witnessed this weekend. If the weather was wet, the skies were called grey, regardless of their actual color. (Milky white... Ha! That's definitely a romanticizing spring construction). And regardless of the quantity and texture of the rain, there was never any talk about "drizzles". I recall it being called just "rain" or even "[bad word] rain". (Yeah, I know. Foul language isn't very attactive at all. But you see, I'm a product of my parents. Thus far, if I drop something by mistake or fall down, I will blurt out a "SIT". Just like mom.)
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