There’s something about the rain. It was neither a hard day’s night, nor a walk in the park kinda day. It just…was. And of course in my rush that is my dog mom guilt of leaving him alone too long, I forgot my umbrella.
But there is something so amazing when walking in the misty rain of a September twilight sans umbrella. Walking in the rain, I see the trees swaying and shedding their leaves, signaling that a change is abound. Walking in the rain, I see the waterfall of raindrops through the rusty orange glow of a Chicago streetlight. Walking in the rain, I see a couple sharing an umbrella, his arm around her shoulders, her black hair flying into his face as he playfully pushes her into a puddle. Walking in the rain, I see a man dodging the downpour in his suit and tie, too afraid to let Armani get wet. In that same rain, I see a biker getting pelted by sideways drops, but still with a smile on his face (and a cell phone stupidly to his ear). In the rain, a stranger offers his umbrella to a well-dressed woman with a newspaper to her head. Her grateful look makes him smile, and they stand waiting for a taxi they might both share to a destination unknown. In this same rain, I feel a chill in the air, but warmth in my heart. In this rain, I feel blessed. To feel, to breathe, I feel a power greater than myself, yet I also feel small and insignificant in this world. In this rain that has drenched my shoes (must remember to buy rain boots), soaked my clothes and allowed my naturally annoying hair to becomes even more frizzy, I feel alive.
And as I watch Ollie McGee happily wiggle his little butt, desperately trying to get the wet raindrops off his back, I can’t help but smile. I love the rain. It makes me feel…well, that’s just it. It just makes…me….FEEL.
Now, come December, I may have another relationship with the rain, but for right now, I feel home.
