Under a deluge of icy cold droplets, my arms extended out from my sides, my face turned up, mouth open as a cup, I danced. Barefooted, in shorts and tee, dancing in the middle of the alley like a joyous child of three.
The rain washed away sixty years from my heart, and I became that child of three, the one who found wonder in everything, who hadn’t learned yet to fear the thunder or the dark or the water that seemed to fall forever. I danced and whirled around, like the leaf being swept along toward the street, where it would join all the other leaves and a flotsam of humanity’s trash, to drop down the drain at the end of the block.
I stood under the curtain of raindrops that ran over the edge of the gutter near the back door until I was soaked through and through, and began to shiver. Even then, I danced. When the shivering interfered with the dancing, I came inside.
Warm and dry, wrapped in quilt, a cup of hot tea thawing my fingers, I listened to the ebb and flow of the rain as it came in waves. First the heavy downpour that roared over the roof and onto the bricks and the alley, a deafening sound that began to die back almost as soon as it began. The music of the water became softer as the rainfall slowed to a gentle patter, barely audible. Then it came roaring back again.
I turned off the air conditioner and all the lights, then sat in the still blackness of the room, listening to the rain, and dancing in my heart.
10 comments:
What a delightful, joyous experience! I totally empathize for I dislike the heat and long for rain. Thankfully it's more comfortable now for us both.
This made me recall a day in my childhood when I was about six or so. One summer afternoon, after a long period of sweltering weather, we had a heavy rain like you describe. The streets were running curb high with water and I, along with my brother and cousin were laughing, jumping, splashing in the street. A joyous memory. May this day be the same for you, dear Crow!
Finding the joy in a rain storm... now that's real living.
Oh, happy memories of childhood!
In warm summer rains, my mother would put my sister and me into our swimming suits and send us outside to play at being ducks.
I remember how chilled I got too, even while the sidewalk under my bare feet remained warm, and how wonderful it was to come in and get wrapped up.
Thanks for the reminder!
Oh that's such a beautifully written image of how it feels to let go. Giving ourselves up to the wild dance of nature's chaos, embraced by the wind and rain is a rare blessing once one passes that age of three. There's something about being able to experience remembered childhood joys with the wisdom of age that adds profundity to our spirits.
Dancing in the rain. That's real freedom. Gene Kelly of course, but something no one should take for granted. Dance on, Martha!
Tonight, beneath the arching branches of the witch-hazel, I danced in the rain.
One of those times when you're immersed fully in the present and all its joys and sensations. Thanks for sharing.
Hello, all:
M-L - I hesitated going out into the rain, for I saw my neighbors' kitchen light on and, fleetingly, worried what they might think of me for standing in the rain. I'm glad I listened to my first impulse, for it made me feel happier than I have in a very long time. I like that little kid inside, and need to listen to her more often.
Steve - I agree. I felt so alive and free in those few minutes - such fun!
Fresca - my mom did the same thing, then met us at the door with towels and dry clothes. That warm feet against the sidewalk while freezing in the rain must be what a hot fudge sundae feels like.
Susan - yes, the letting go and just being in the moment, thinking of nothing else. I think I did savor it more at 63 than I did at three, as you suggest. (My regards to Crow, who looks so handsome, distinguished and stately in the drawing you did of him.)
Plutarh - it was liberating. Letting the rain wash over me like that, purposefully, made me think I need to seek out other freeing opportunities, as often as I am able.
HKatz - thank you, for visiting, and for your kind words. I enjoyed every moment of it, including sitting in the dark and listening to the rain hit the roof, the tree and the street.
how wonderful to dance as the child and with the child of/ in your heart.... and in / with the rain as well.
you have had some amazing dance partners in these past few days and hours
lovely post
Harlequin - I agree with your assessment - good dancing, indeed!
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