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The Clouds Cross the Sky Metaphorically
Mar. 15th, 2003 07:08 pmThe rain has come and gone again.
As the temperatures begin to rise, and the humidity grows in our oak filled town, the showers scatter here and there. One place has sun and heat, while next door there's a torrent. Clouds float across the sky, dispatched in a random pattern as to confuse even the natives of this region.
For a few minutes, the rain starts as a sprinkle, perhaps before you even know that the cloud is creeping overhead. The winds kick up a little and the drizzle becomes a torrent. Down it comes, soaking you, changing you . A few minutes later, it retreats, pushing it's way to another street, another zip code.
Often it comes with a crash of thunder, but leaves with just the sounds of splashing feet, water gurgling down to the sewers, and occasionally a little curse.
You're left damp, sometimes shivering, sometimes relived, and back in the sun. The rays of the sun attempt to dry you, but in this town, it never seems to happen. There's too much lingering moisture in the air for that.
I've been in the storm, let it drench me a little. This is unusual. normally I ran for cover, never allowing myself to get wet. Certainly never looking for the storm. The storm came, I rode it out and let it wash over me. It was exhilarating and refreshing, and as these storms do, It moved quickly. Here and gone. Still, the dampness lingered a bit more than I thought it would. It's been hard to get dry in all of this.
Now, do I anticipate the next cloud, or do I let it roll past me while I'm still hiding under an awning, or in the high office tower...just watching as others run through the rain. What are they thinking? Are they too busy with their lives to take it in? Why do they run?
Why do I run?
I'm holding on to the recent past. I saw the past storm as a positive, giving needed life and relief to what it touched. I hear the thunder of the next storms as a warning. I know they'll come, but will the feeling be the same? Can I take the changes and differences? Some storms rain down warm water, others have lighting and wind.
Some storms last. Sometimes, they say, it rains and rains and rains.
But to not take part, to not try to see, to feel, what the storm will bring. Will that be the bigger fear?
The bigger fear is that the storm will pass.
As the temperatures begin to rise, and the humidity grows in our oak filled town, the showers scatter here and there. One place has sun and heat, while next door there's a torrent. Clouds float across the sky, dispatched in a random pattern as to confuse even the natives of this region.
For a few minutes, the rain starts as a sprinkle, perhaps before you even know that the cloud is creeping overhead. The winds kick up a little and the drizzle becomes a torrent. Down it comes, soaking you, changing you . A few minutes later, it retreats, pushing it's way to another street, another zip code.
Often it comes with a crash of thunder, but leaves with just the sounds of splashing feet, water gurgling down to the sewers, and occasionally a little curse.
You're left damp, sometimes shivering, sometimes relived, and back in the sun. The rays of the sun attempt to dry you, but in this town, it never seems to happen. There's too much lingering moisture in the air for that.
I've been in the storm, let it drench me a little. This is unusual. normally I ran for cover, never allowing myself to get wet. Certainly never looking for the storm. The storm came, I rode it out and let it wash over me. It was exhilarating and refreshing, and as these storms do, It moved quickly. Here and gone. Still, the dampness lingered a bit more than I thought it would. It's been hard to get dry in all of this.
Now, do I anticipate the next cloud, or do I let it roll past me while I'm still hiding under an awning, or in the high office tower...just watching as others run through the rain. What are they thinking? Are they too busy with their lives to take it in? Why do they run?
Why do I run?
I'm holding on to the recent past. I saw the past storm as a positive, giving needed life and relief to what it touched. I hear the thunder of the next storms as a warning. I know they'll come, but will the feeling be the same? Can I take the changes and differences? Some storms rain down warm water, others have lighting and wind.
Some storms last. Sometimes, they say, it rains and rains and rains.
But to not take part, to not try to see, to feel, what the storm will bring. Will that be the bigger fear?
The bigger fear is that the storm will pass.
