Sunday, March 17, 2002
Rainy Day Man
The last few days have been dark and blustery - a nice change of pace from San Diego's typical Bright! Bright! Sunny! Sunny! climate. As I write this, a gentle rain pelts down on my patio, providing a soothing background for this journey entry. I just came in from the cold and damp, back from dinner at Hunan, and am now going to warm my toes by the crackling Blog. Just let me take my socks off ...
Against all conventional wisdom, rain never fails to lift my spirits. To an indoors person whose idea of a good time is curling up on the sofa and reading a long tome - blanket on my lap and pot of tea at my side - inclement weather is a godsend. It provides an excuse larger than youself for staying in when everyone else wants to go out. It adds a dimension of coziness to your home, providing real physical boundaries between you and elements. And it provides a Zen focal point appropriate for just staring out a window, cleansing all those warring free radical thoughts from your mind.
No one believes me when I tell them I miss the rain of Texas and Minnesota. But I do miss it: the intense spring showers, the summer thunderheads, the autumnal bluster. The long nights filled with homework, Cosmic Encounter, Facts in Five, movies and endless pots of jasmine or earl grey tea. Bowls of Martha's vegetarian chilli. Quiet crossword marathons. These scenes were often accompanied by falling precipitation that, continuing into the night, would hypnotically wean me from my bedside novel into a deep, peaceful sleep.
They magic of rain doesn't end when the drops stop falling, either. After a shower, the streets and sidewalks dazzle: the most mundane intersection takes on surreal proportions, the haloes of light looming large, a warped mirror at your feet. You breathe in the mist, smell the fresh air, and somehow feel a heightened sense of being. And if you're me, you think back to Gene Kelley's solo scene in Singin' in the Rain and begin mouthing lyrics quietly to yourself as your shoes splish and splash in the odd sidewalk puddles.
Speaking of which ... looking out my window now, I see the rain has subsided to a fine mist. It's my cue to end this ode to rain and step outside to enjoy it. Sadly, you Bloglerites aren't here to share the experience. But be assured that as your proxy, I'll sing a little song for you as I kick down the cobblestones.
posted 9:46 PM
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