This morning was another test of will. I awoke to the thundering of heavy rain on my window and had to overcome the comfort of my bed and force myself out the door. I took the first step with my umbrella in hand, but immediately turned and set the umbrella back in the house. There are few things as refreshing and liberating as an unshielded walk in the rain. It acts as a baptism of sorts, cleansing us of all the seriousness and stress of adulthood, allowing that inner child societal norms have so suppressed to take over for an instant.
The pouring rain echoed from the rooftops and clanged into the gutters, filling the streets with a hypnotic sound. To add to the effect, the trees danced in the wind illuminated by tiny droplets hanging from each branch reflecting the streetlights. I felt like an unwelcomed guest to some great midnight ball.
Soon I crossed paths with the early morning paper lady, sporting her bright yellow jacket and headlamp, and realized I wasn’t the only one joining in on nature’s frolic. Remembering my own days as a paperboy, I doubted whether she was enjoying the rain as much as I was. What for me was a great blessing must have been to here an even greater burden.
The puddles blanketing the streets continued to tempt me to jump in, to splash around while no one was looking, but my slippers and flannel pajama pants begged me to act my age. Not to mention that by this time I was soaked and starting to get a little cold.
Unfortunately I allowed reason to persuade passion and I passed the puddles without a splash. Oh, how often rationality spoils a good time!
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