I walk outside and feel the rain dancing cold against the warmth of my arms. The contrast of temperatures awakens me fully to the day. The undulating tide of traffic splashing past me reminds me that I am not alone and perhaps that I should’ve brought an umbrella along on this journey.
Birds singing in the new day roam about from tree to wire and back to the tree again in what appears to me as some kind of rain dance. I smile at that thought and move along my chosen path.
Owners urging their dogs to, “Do your business quick”, pulling little plastic baggies out of hidden coat pockets making ready to handle their companion’s business. I smile remembering those days of walking and pleading. And it really is merely a droplet of rian that I wipe from my face, not a tear.
Going ever forward on my journey I see large yellow behemoths rumbling down the road ready to devour the small children standing at their own predetermined morning areas. The looks upon their small faces as they stand and wait, bring my own memories pushing to the surface of my days waiting in the rain.
Walking past the small waiting ones I can see my destination as it looms ever closer. Each step I take squishes as my shoes, now soaked, splosh and splash against the paved walk ways.
The sun is trying its best to break through the sullen, gray and heavy clouds, I imagine it’s quite an effort. Teh clouds holding onto to their perch, the sun pushing and pushing until at last the reward, a single slice of light penetrates the gray. The rain persists.
At last I reach my destination and I sigh with knowing my journey is complete. Whether I am relieved or not, I am unsure. Reaching out, I open the mouth of the creature I have walked all this way to feed. With my other hand I pull out the contents of my pocket and quickly shove it inside that gaping maw.
Letting go of the handle I allow it to slam shut. But of course, as always, I reach out and open it again to check. I have to ensure that my offering did indeed make it to the bottom.
It just wouldn’t do to have that envelope taken by another person making their offering to the metal container on this corner. Or to have it stick to the side of the pass through.
And the mail carrier always seems in such a rush when emptying the contents of the mail box.
Just a little something to peruse this fine, wet, not so nearly gray anymore, Monday morning. How are you today?