skutch

So the other day I am out for a walk, walking along, just sort of going nowhere, as I am wont to do when the mood strikes me, which is admittedly an infrequent occasion. Anywho, there I was, walking, when lo and behold it starts raining, quite suddenly. So it's raining, and I'm still walking along as before, only I was decidedly more damp all of a sudden. Anyway, I got to thinking about things. I realized that I quite enjoyed the rain. Before it had started, I was already considering a quick return, perhaps a quick sprint at that last block before my house, up that hill and around that corner, second on the left. And the rain, it stopped all that. It wasn't the thought of how ridiculous I would look, dashing like a madman through the puddles and the occasional newly formed lake (somewhat poor drainage round my neighborhood), but rather because I had forgotten the notion of heading home altogether. The air was still warm and summery, with hardly any wind at all. The rain was coming down all soft and gentle-like, and just slightly off to the side. Not the cold and biting rain of the chill winter, or the torrential downpour of the NW fall season, but rather like rain in the late spring. Fresh and new. So I continued my walk, up and around, down this hill and up the next. Past the old post office, which is being remodelled into a rather nice looking meeting hall, or something of that sort. A nice job. Anyway, I headed out over to the Elevator, one of the local historical sites, taking the stairs back up and around by the Mcloughlin house, and on past the 7-11, then coming around to detour past my old High School and maybe peek to see if a few friends are at home. No luck there, which is ok, cause I was worried about dripping on their new carpet anyways. It's starting to let up, so I make my way home, no real hills but that last one. Mostly its a gentle slope up the main road. And the rain has stopped, and the air feels cool and clean, all natural again. Up that last hill I go, and around the corner, up to the second on the left. Up the path and open the door, never locked since the day I moved in, but don't be telling anyone about that. In through the door, close it behind me, and drip drip on the floor. Off with the shoes. And now the cold sets in, and the house is chill, the windows open and the curtains drawn. No worries. Off with the clothes and into the shower, a short song and a laugh at the absurdity of it all, my coming in from the rain and taking a shower. I think of things, my life and matters of concern. With the rain, there sometimes comes clarity. So it is. The water runs cold and biting by the time I get out. Fluffy towels, dark blue and green. The colors reminds me of the pine trees surrounding my house, the river that flows through the city. I got them on sale. Down the hall I went. Into my room. It's the one at the end of the hall, with the big windows that stay open year round, and no blinds. A simple room, now with a damp carpet and a wet windowsill. And there I stood at my big windows, in my dark green and blue towels, watching the sky outside as it continued to clear. For a long while I stood there. I wondered when it might rain again.