Rain

Yesterday morning when I woke early I headed into work through the rain. It was a cold and steady rain that painted the streets black and reflected the amber glow of the streetlights. Walking across the parking lot to my office I walked down a sidewalk covered in fallen leaves. The leaves were soaked from the rain fall.

As my feet kicked them up there was that wonderful fecund scent of decaying leaves mingled with the sweet scent of new fallen rain and that faint tang of the sea from the San Francisco Bay. Everything smelled crisp and clear and clean. I was dressed for the the weather - gray t-shirt, business shirt, gray cable sweater, Columbia rain jacket. I was snug and warm inside my clothing and the morning was simply beautiful.

At lunch I walked down the street to the Boomerang Cafe. It was cold and blustery, with the wind pushing and pulling at me. For lunch I had a bowl of Southwestern corn chowder and a tuna and green onion salad with a bottle of Pelegrino. My friend Don and I discussed imaginary money in a lively conversation. After lunch I walked back to the office. A few minutes into the journey the clouds opened up and pelted me with fast, cold, stinging rain that in another few moments turned to sleet.

The sleet popped off my coat, striking with a certain violence. I held my hood with my hand to keep it from blowing off and the sleet stung my hand like small angry white insects. My shoes and my pants were quickly wet from the rain and the sleet. As I walked I watched the sleet bouncing off the sidewalk and listened to the rushing sound it made. I was warm inside my coat and able to enjoy each moment of it.

That evening, on the way home, I stopped at Borders bookstore to look for a certain movie. They did not have the movie I was looking for but their computer says it is at another store, not that far away, so I will swing by there tonight. I came out of the store and stood in front of the door for a little while.

The rain was pouring down. It was heavy, cold, drenching. A young mother went by pushing a child in a stroller. The mother was dressed for the weather and the child was a small bundle of coats and blankets, with a tiny little face and bright blue eyes peeking out. The child extended a small gloved hand in and out of the canopy of the stroller, playing with the falling rain.

Later that evening, I sat at home, curled in my favorite chair, reading a novel, drinking a cup of hot vanilla chocolate and listening to the rain pouring down on the roof and gurgling as it flowed through the gutters and down spout. Rain filled the day and filling the day it filled the sense of the day.