Sometimes you can smell the rain coming. And it always takes me back to sleeping in the upstairs bedroom at my grandparent’s farmhouse. It made a glorious sound on the tin roof, almost like a symphony. I’d quickly scramble（爬 ）into bed making “angel in the snow” motions to warm it all up ,and then I’d cuddle摟抱 and scrunch 蜷縮down under the covers, leaving just enough of my nose poking戳眼 out to breathe the cool ,clean ,rain-freshened air. The chill in the air wasn’t so noticeable under a mountain of cozy quilts and blankets. A warm, comfortable bed with the rain pounding overhead is hard to leave behind.
To this day, I love rainstorm, how they perfume the air, the sound they make on the roofs, and sleeping under homemade quilts.
To this day, I love rainstorm, how they perfume the air, the sound they make on the roofs, and sleeping under homemade quilts.