WALK in the Rain
The rain. Pouring, pouring rain. Musical rain that melts the sand to slurry.
Big rain that flows in tributaries from puddle to puddle to puddle.
Rain that soaks me from my temples to my toes.
Walking in the rain, there’s just something about it.
I’m alone, but somehow, not. I’m cold, but somehow, not. I have the warm, wonderful feeling of good company having just gone.
I pick up the wriggling pink worm and move him to the grass. I take time to shake water from a heavy bough, straightening up in my little world, happy as can be. The rain scours the sidewalk and rinses the car windows while I wash my boots in a just-formed pool. The clouds hang low and dark like drawn curtains.
The birds are silent and hiding wherever birds do. Roads shimmer and shine, empty. People wait inside for the weather to pass, but I can’t pass it up.
Petrichor fills my body, minerally and enlivening. Along with a sparkling hope, too.
“Let the rain kiss you.” Langston Hughes invites us, “Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.”
The discomfort of wet socks and water dripping down my back is temporary, but the kiss stays with me.
PromptS
What does peace sound like?
When do I feel alone with the world?
Libby DeLana is an award-winning executive creative director, designer/art director by trade, who has spent her career in the ad world. Click here to get your copy of Libby’s first published book, Do Walk. You can connect with Libby on Instagram @thismorningwalk and @parkhere.