A rainy weekend afternoon snuggled up indoors is a gift. Nothing quite incites cosiness like the tapping of raindrops on the roof and the spots and streaks of water that coat the windows and blur the view of the world outside. They are the familiar sights and sounds that say that this is a day for comfort, rest and respite from all worries that lay outside your door.
I love rain. The sound is so soothing, whether it is a gentle pitter-patter, or a thundering torrential downpour. On a rainy afternoon when I’m home and have nowhere else to be, I can really relax, get cosy and revel in life’s simple pleasures.
There are few elements required for a perfect rainy afternoon, and they all inspire a warm feeling of contentment. A snuggly blanket, a good book, a huge mug of tea, and some great films.
I love to curl up in bed and lose myself in a great novel, and if the story contains even a modicum of gloom to match the grim weather, so much the better. Jane Eyre, Great Expectations and Love in the Time of Cholera all make for excellent rainy-day reads.
Classic films and rainy afternoons are also a perfect match. I opt for the suspense, sensuality and romantic tension of Notorious, my favourite Hitchcock film, or the irreverence and sparkling wit of The Philadelphia Story, surely one of the greatest screwball romantic comedies ever made. And there’s no rainy day that can’t be improved by another viewing of Casablanca: timeless, beautiful, endlessly quotable.
Perfect rainy days amble along at a sleepy pace and allow the cares of daily life to disappear in a haze of blissful snugness. As long as I have no concrete plans which require me to venture outdoors, I greet any rainy Sunday with a smile. I pop the kettle on, put on my favourite pjs, and prepare for the perfect lazy day.