Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Maybe it's genetic. My Grampy loved the rain too, and never missed the chance to drive through puddles, wether it was on bike, tractor or truck. Or maybe having the name Misty predisposes me to liking the rain. Either way, I do like the rain. And puddles.
Today we had my most favorite kind of rain. Warm and straight down, not too hard, just steady. Almost lazy. Just right to leave drops hanging from leaves and bikes and toys forgotten. The whole of outdoors stood still. Quiet. The only sound was the rain. All the trees and plants seemingly heaved a collective sigh. Not a bird or bug was seen or heard.
I like plodding around in raincoat and rubber boots on days like today. Weaving my way around the newly washed world. Witnessing the toys lying wet in the grass, the hammer next to the not yet completed shed, the bird feeder hanging still for the first time in days. Everything is different and everything is the same. Everything stands still and listens.