is as simple as spring rain
nourishing the grass.
- My simple haiku
However, as I often say in this space, there is usually a way to shift things about if you give it a little time. Maybe not enough to turn a vicious cycle into a virtuous cycle, but at the very least there are ways to stop the descent.
Take, for example, the near-continuous blend of clouds, rain, and humidity that have shrouded the Midwest. Not a lot to work with, right? Guess again. Think of how many different ways we can describe the endless stretch of grey skies, each one coming with its own emotional weight. They can be darkening at the edge of the horizon, promising a coming storm, or sporadically pierced with rays of sun struggling to reach the ground. My favorite is "pewter skies" because it evokes a very distinct color in the reader's mind, and spreads it across the imagination like a metal lid across the sky. Those are just thoughts about simple cloud cover.
As for the rain - well, that's just a grab-bag full of possibilities. Just like how some cultures have many words from snow, the writer should have a wealth of little gems to describe what can otherwise be nothing more than a spring rain. Rain is more than water falling from the sky. It has density, size, ferocity, and a bunch of other little qualities that we can fold into the discussion. And, of course, rain can be good, bad, or neutral. Just because the heavy, wet air makes me cough terribly doesn't mean it's bad for everyone, and perhaps that is where I start off my writing.
The point I am laboring to make is simple: When we want to write, anything can be a subject. When we need to write, it's often best to target the simplest of things and find their complexity, their dimension. Expand on one little thing and make it stand out, and you will have done more than most people who just look outside and simply see the rain.