The rain came today in a flash-flood baptism. It was one of those cloudy and broody afternoons where the sky decided it would hold out all day- until you went to the grocery store during your lunch hour. And waited until the perfect moment when you were walking back to let it all out in one swift meltdown.
I love getting caught in storms. They remind me that life is exciting and unpredictable. Like suddenly I am transported into a dramatic scene from a movie, where at any moment I may be required to run for my life or kiss a stranger.
Alas, today I did neither of these things.
I just waited under a tree and watched people scurry to their cars, splashing in the torrents of water running down the brick sidewalk. I breathed in that rain-on-asphalt smell that so reminds me of home.
The nights I'd sit out after work and strum my guitar about how the pavement shines like silver. The muggy afternoons when you know practice isn't canceled but at least you have an extra ten minutes to hide under the bleachers and talk before it subsides. The heart-to-hearts in the passenger seat as water obliterates everything further than the windshield. And the comfortable silence on the front porch as you rock back and forth, just watching it come down.
It was that kind of a day.
When I woke up this morning, I looked at my skin [which is usually quite clear] and I looked at my hair [which is normally not quite so frizzy] and let me tell you, my heart was not filled with the unadulterated joy that comes from living in the South. Until the rainstorm, that is.
It feels nice to remember why you love the things that you love.
|This photo is not relevant. |
But it was taken from the roof of the NEWSEUM!
which is also something I love.