in praise of rain
I think there's a reason religions baptize people. There's something inherently ecstatic about being soaked to the skin. I know some people like the warm rain, but not me. It's too much like being slobbered upon by the world's biggest dog or something. I like the chill fall rains, rains I'd characterise as 'brisk' rather than icy. Invigorating. Even better when it's windy and gold and red leaves dance madly by. I know, I sound insane, or possibly more insane, depending on your perspective. I probably look crazy, out on the street, tipping my face up towards the sky to let the rain run down my neck.
But think about this: How many more autumns can you expect to see? Fifty, maybe? A hundred, in your wildest dreams? Why waste it under umbrellas and rainboots and jackets? Why waste it on fear and practicality? Think about all those women shelling out big money for little bottles of sea-water toner to mist their faces with, when you can get the same thing for free, just by looking up.
I can tell who my people are, this time of year. They come in grinning, and when I say something about the wet, they tell me it's fun. The more sheepish will only admit to not minding so much, because even here only the absolutely crazy will admit to liking this weather.
Sometimes I think about the lizards alitria used to keep, when we were teenagers. We had to mist them with a spray bottle every so often. I must admit, it's hard to tell if a lizard is actually enjoying something or not, but I liked to think they felt the same way - giddy, exhilarated, new.
But think about this: How many more autumns can you expect to see? Fifty, maybe? A hundred, in your wildest dreams? Why waste it under umbrellas and rainboots and jackets? Why waste it on fear and practicality? Think about all those women shelling out big money for little bottles of sea-water toner to mist their faces with, when you can get the same thing for free, just by looking up.
I can tell who my people are, this time of year. They come in grinning, and when I say something about the wet, they tell me it's fun. The more sheepish will only admit to not minding so much, because even here only the absolutely crazy will admit to liking this weather.
Sometimes I think about the lizards alitria used to keep, when we were teenagers. We had to mist them with a spray bottle every so often. I must admit, it's hard to tell if a lizard is actually enjoying something or not, but I liked to think they felt the same way - giddy, exhilarated, new.