Rain
It hasn't hardly rained in months. We're Eight inches behind normal
for the year. I like the rain, even if it does mess up plans, make
things uncomfortable. The rain reminds me of times gone by. It has a
nostalgia built in. I like to watch the rain drip down the window.
Hear it patter on the roof. It closes you in on your self. It makes
you feel good about being inside. I can remember times when I've hung
out in a diner, or a barn, or a tent, just waiting for the rain to
stop. Travelling by bicycle gives rain a whole other level of
importance. Riding in the rain isn't so bad if you're dressed for it.
It even feels good- you get a different sense of speed, with the rain
spraying off of your tires, dripping down your nose. Makes you
appreciate a warm, dry place. It can make you miserable, too.
Miserable sounds like a rainy word. And rightly so. THe cold, clammy,
clinging jeans. The squishy shoes. The fogged up glasses. The danger
of the skid, the unexpected splash of water and road grit. Coldness.
Thats the rub- rain in the tropics is OK, unless you think about how
it makes the mold grow. Or it's accompanied by lightning, or strong
winds (hurricanes, even) and ruins your plans or your life. I like to
see it run towards the low places, as long as it doesn't carry too
much with it, like topsoil, or houses. Make the streams run. Head for
the sea. When I was a kid, I was fascinated with the idea of sending a
boat down the little creek across the street, to Cabin John Creek, the
Potomac, the Chesapeake, on into the ocean. Maybe to foriegn shores.
The rain would make it possible.