Friday night we went to sleep to the sound of raindrops pitter-pattering on the roof.
Our area has gone so long without rain, this storm was a delightful novelty. Friday it rained off and on all day. By evening, the clouds had settled in over us, predicted to stay for the majority of the weekend.
We awoke Saturday morning to a steady downpour.
Normally, by our newest and most current definition of normal, such weather on a Saturday would find us snuggled in bed for most of the day. Reading, watching sports, napping. But not yesterday. Yesterday we had to get up and out and about. We had an appointment to meet a dog. So we hustled Dudley into his harness and all piled in the car.
The rain was still steadily falling. The air was heavy and humid, the temperature rather warm. The clouds hovered low, a soft foggy feeling enveloped the neighborhood; colors muted, edges blurred. Not even a slight breeze ruffled the trees. Water ran in rivers down the gutters and puddled in low spots on the pavement.
We took the back way toward the highway via our suburban streets. Movement caught my eye as two little boys clad only in swimming trunks came flying out from behind a house. They raced across their front lawn, bare feet slipping on the wet grass. Huge grins lit up their faces as they dove headfirst, sliding across the saturated lawn and coming to a stop near the mailbox. Pine needles clung to their wet bodies and stuck up from their hair, their faces expressions of pure glee.
At first it seemed odd these boys were playing outside in such a heavy rain. But other than the torrents of water falling from the sky, the weather was calm and warm. Why not play outside?
I can't remember the last time I walked in the rain unmindful and uncaring of getting wet. I should rectify that.