Listening to the Sound of Rain

There are thirty-two days until I embark on a journey I have never taken before in my life. It will be a new chapter with new characters and a brand new setting that, after a few weeks, will feel like home. However, in those thirty-two days, I plan not only on looking towards the future and counting down the hours until I get on that plane to Europe, but enjoying what I will miss when I am abroad: mom's cooking, my sister's laugh, rain hitting the dry SoCal cement. I hate the rain, but why does rain in a foreign place seem so romantic? Thirty-two days and I count raindrops dripping from the rooftop.