rainboots, leggings and mushrooms.

I actually do love the rain. I may be one of the only people I know that does. 

Sure, I lack motivation on rainy days and desire nothing more than sleeping in, watching a late afternoon movie, and drinking more coffee than the healthy, daily amount but I do still love the rain.

I used to play in the rain. On numerous occasions. In puddles, in the crevice of the middle of the road where the rain created a waterfall, and have been known to squish my way through the woods a time or two. I wish I still did.

I even have a "rainy days" playlist, because I think there is such a particular mindset for cloudy, drizzly days that, for me, is somewhat enjoyable on occasion. 

It's been on shuffle all morning.

I desperately wanted to wear my new suede boots today but opted, instead, for the more practical option of rainboots. I slid my teal/gray/plum striped boots on over metalic silver leggings and I was ready to go.

Before I take the obligatory rainy day, mid-afternoon nap, I thought I'd share some images that the rain inspired.

These mushrooms have been sneakily growing in our front yard for a few days now. The light rain last night forced them to pop open overnight. I walked to class this morning and spotted them, almost all unfolded, shimmied between the water-beaded blades of grass.

duplex.

This is where I live.

There's more than just lamps in the room, but they're nearly my favorite part.

"music is the only thing that makes sense anymore, man. play it loud enough, it keeps the demons away"

It could be said that our generation, my generation, can't stand to be disconnected: not from the world, but from one another- from their gadgets, from their phones and their iPods and their computers. 

It's true, you know. We can't stand it.

But I can tell you for a fact that the reason I'm inseparable from my iPod or my computer at all times is because I can't stand a world without music. If I had it my way, life would have an endless soundtrack- from the moment you wake up in the morning, to the mundane of brushing your teeth and painting your toenails, sitting in class or walking down the sidewalk, to a peaceful night's sleep and everything in between.

I find myself humming songs even when I don't have music around. I get more joy than any normal human should from hearing someone play acoustic guitar outside between classes or a stereo blasting while a group of boys toss a frisbee around. 

And it's always different. I fall asleep to classical music (which actually offends the aficionados of the genre). I do homework with jazz, Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra. I blare Cute is What We Aim For and Paramore from my car driving to long destinations. I listen to country and bluegrass when I'm "heading home". I run with rap music. But music envelops my life. And it makes it beautiful.  

So, yes, music sometimes does seem to me to be the only thing that makes sense anymore. Music, whether directly politically or economically charged, makes sense. The raw emotion that fills songs- so depressed or absolutely ecstatic that everything in their lives could be so perfect- makes sense. What the notes do to your soul and to your body- physically make you want to dance or literally makes you smile- makes sense. Sometimes, it's not tangible what music does to you- but YOU know it's there and it makes a difference in your life. 

My wish for you is that you find peace through whatever outlet it is in your life that will bring you a sense of comfort and well being. 

And even if that thing is not music, I guarantee that it can help you get there.

"Music is the harmonic connection between all living things"- August Rush