As I write this, it rains outside. I have to lower the windows so the rain won’t wet my floor. It’s a short and heavy downpour. I love it. Sadly, it ends as fast as it begins. A few minutes later the sun returns, and not much later the streets and roofs are dry again. As if the rain had never stopped by.

It’s funny. Even though I don’t like getting wet, I absolutely love rain. There’s nothing more tranquil than walking in the woods while gentle rain falls on my umbrella. Everything seems so peaceful. There’s no sound but the raindrops on the umbrella and my steps on the forest floor.

It’s September, and the people around me are unhappy with the days getting cooler. Although I manage to pull off a polite smile, I think to myself how much I long for the cold days to come. And how much I want a real winter. Yes, the past two winters did include some very chilly days. But the long winters of my childhood are gone. The weeks of deep snow have been replaced with predominantly snow-free days and rather mild temperatures. And yet so many people can’t wait for winter to be over.

I wonder how much they’re actually influenced by the weather forecast. It somehow seems ingrained in the forecasters to always praise the sun, no matter how high the temperature. As soon as the sun shines, we are supposed to be happy. And as soon as there’s rain, cooler temperatures, or even snow in sight, the forecasters look so unhappy I feel like they’re in great need of a hug.

Realistically, we need the rain as much as we need the sun. Just yesterday I read in the Austrian news the glaciers in central Asia, while having appeared to be resistant to climate change, have finally given in. As the winters have become too dry for rain and snow, the glaciers are not only shrinking, but this lack of rain has also caused a decrease in glacier water, resulting in less drinking water for the people living there and less water for their fields. Yes, too much rain can be devastating and destructive. But too much sun eradicates life too. Without enough water and air conditioning, would you be able to survive the summer months as they keep getting hotter?

I’ll admit it. I’ve never liked summer and have never understood why people vacation in the south or voluntarily move to hot states like Florida, California, or Texas. For me, too much sunshine means sunburns, herpes, and high temperatures taking a toll on my immune system and psyche.

When I was grocery shopping in the Austrian countryside, I saw the cashier help an elderly lady sit down, giving her a glass of water and calling the ambulance. It was obvious the lady severely suffered under the great heat. And she wasn’t the only one this summer. Or last summer. Again and again the news talked about how much elderly people suffer under those high temperatures, reminding them to drink a lot of water, not to go outside in the midday heat, and to close the windows and shutters during the day to keep the heat out. Right now I’m still young and healthy. But I have no idea how to bear that heat when I’m older. I barely make it now.

I really suffered the past few summers. If I hadn’t been in the Austrian countryside, surrounded by trees and staying in the shade all day, I wouldn’t have been able to stand the heat. The sun was brutally hot during the day, and at night the air felt just as hot and stuffy. And there was no end of it.

One afternoon I listened to an Austrian radio show discussing the heat’s negative effects on our physical and mental health. Two listeners with depression called and shared how the heat had significantly increased their symptoms, and how with one sunny day following another, they’d truly become desperate. Personally, I noticed my threshold to be lower too. I was much more irritable and moody. I couldn’t go anywhere, and my level of energy was painfully low. I honestly was pretty useless. All I wanted to do was dig a hole and bury myself in the cool soil.

In August my husband and I visited Chicago. As we’re walkers, we walked everywhere in the city. Even though I love Chicago, the heat made me yearn for the Austrian countryside. Sure, Chicago has many nice parks, but they’re only a tiny oasis in a desert of concrete. In China I’d picked up the custom of using an umbrella for the sun, and while mine has UV protection and shielded my body from the sun’s rays as we walked around the city, it didn’t protect me from the heat. Despite the occasional wind, there was no flow of air, no cooling breeze. It almost felt like suffocating out in the open air.

I’m ready for autumn. For the cool and rainy days. And I know the Earth is too. It’s time for rivers to fill up with water and for creatures and trees to quench their thirst. The forecasters and people around me will keep crying over the loss of sunshine and hot weather, but I will keep cherishing every raindrop and cool breeze crossing my path.

Daniela Ribitsch teaches German at Lycoming College.