Rain descends upon my borrowed umbrella on my last day in Boston. Photo by Paxtyn Merten

The sound of raindrops pounding on the walls echoes through the hallway and follows me into my room. The hallway is illuminated only by the dim guide of the light switches, and the windows look out into a black night.

As I walk by the window, a sudden feeling runs through my body that it will always be this way. For a fleeting moment I imagine the rain and darkness will extend forever. It will always be raining, the sky will always be dark. This condition is permanent. The vision escapes me as quickly as it filled my mind.

For a few minutes I wondered how such a strange sensation came over me, considering the “bad weather” days in Thessaloniki have been partly cloudy with sporadic sprinkling in the afternoons. However, I quickly realized why I’d had such an overpowering reaction: the sound of the rain had taken my mind back home. I was instantly transported to the dark hallways of my house. I was laying in my bed during a storm. I was staring out my living room window at the sky, which only ever transformed from black to gray and then back to black.

It was a dreary thought. At the same time, it was comforting. It reminded me of movie marathons, lazy days on the couch, soft blankets and good books. It reminded me of youth. It reminded me of one day when my little brother and I embraced the weather and had a water battle, complete with buckets and a hose. It is bittersweet to think of returning home, and strange to imagine how much time may pass before I am there again during these extended periods of gloom.

Regardless, I will not let this weekend’s storm dampen my final few days in Thessaloniki. Just like at home, I will find the fun in the rain as I look forward to the sunny days ahead in Athens.

Clouds loom over the apartments surrounding our residence. Photo by Paxtyn Merten
Sun creeps through spots in the clouds on the seaboard in Thessaloniki. Photo by Paxtyn Merten