A Good Night

Tric-ah-pop. The rain makes noise tonight, I notice. I never thought much about the rain before. Rain existed, it was part of the process of condensation.It got you wet and created puddles to splash in or slog through, depending on your age or worldview. It performed a function, no more than that. It was simply a damp substance that waited for a chance to display itself.



Years of my wondering why people desired rain, wanted to run, walk, and play in a rainstorm, ended tonight. I stood outside and watched clouds gather above me while the wind picked up. I spotted where it was falling and stepped off the porch to let it fall on me. Every drop offered a benediction on my skin, a blessing from the clouds gathered overhead. I wanted to be there, precisely there, letting myself be refreshed, restored, renewed again to a more elemental part of myself. Free, natural, and awe-inspiring, I did not want to leave it behind. Watching the weather around my neighborhood, I recalled all the footage I had seen on the news when hurricanes arrived to attack, and sometimes devastate, a community. I no longer stood in the rain, but at the edge of my porch. I removed my light shirt then. I didn't want that much on my skin. My bottom layer, a tank top, was perfect. Drops blew toward me, wetting my skin, and providing a joy I never expected. I watched lightning dance , illuminating the small area I call home, and delighted in its abandon. I wanted to whirl and dance myself. I gained a completely unanticipated pleasure, a release from the weight, the cares, and the sorrows of this last week. I gave myself the freedom to let go, to let them go. My skin tingles still, every time I remember, and wonder Who was that girl, and where did she come from? Why did I never let her play in the rain before?