摘要
I’ve got a deep secret few people understand and even fewer will admit to sharing. It’s time to tell the truth: I love the rain, deeply and passionately and more than the sun. At least I live in the right place, famous for its damp weather and spawning its own genuine rainforest. I can’t imagine living anywhere else than the Pacific Northwest. The sun shines so infrequently that my friends forget where they put their sunglasses. Gloomy clouds cause many people around here to suffer from seasonal affective disorder. Yet I welcome the rain. Seattleites well say they like how rain keeps the city green, how clean the air tastes afterwards. My real reason for enjoying the rain is steeped in pure selfishness—when it’s mucky outside, I don’t have to do anything. I can spend the afternoon curled up reading, build a fire and make a big pot of spiced tea. I can sleep in late, waking up occasionally to hear soothing patter on the roof, water racing down the gutter. Nobody expects me to leave my house or do anything overly productive. Maybe I’ll invite a few friends over to watch an old movie or play a board game. Friends’ expectations are low and easy to meet.
I＇ve got a deep secret few people understand and even fewer will admit to sharing. It＇s time to tell the truth.. I love the rain, deeply and passionately and more than the sun. At least I live in the fight place, famous for its damp weather and spawning its own genuine rainforest. I can＇t imagine living anywhere else than the Pacific Northwest. The sun shines so infrquently that my friends forget where they put their sunglasses. Gloomy clouds cause many people around here to suffer from seasonal affective disorder. Yet I welcome the rain.
