Today, with some vehemence, a colleague shared with me that he was tired of the rain. He hated it. I'm not quite so clear on my feeling about it, the rain that is. It's been raining since yesterday evening, and it looks like it could rain all night and into tomorrow. Who knows? I am bothered by the inconveniences of it. I'm sympathetic to the obstacles it poses for the farmers who live around here and need to take in the harvest (In fact this would be what bothers me most about the amount of rain we're getting today; ill-timed rain - and this rain is ill-timed - is brutal for farmers.). I am not, however, a rain hater. I don't mind riding home and getting wet. You make a commitment, you get wet, you live in it, you get home. You feel like you've persevered.
Once I'm home, I don't mind sitting inside doing stuff, knowing that I really can't work around outside, because it's too wet (the rain gives me an excuse to feel like I have no option but to do what I would really want to do anyway - guilt-free!). I like the manageable adversity of the rain. This is also why I like blizzards (and missing a day or two of work isn't bad either) and cold days. It brings to mind the good ol' days of fort-building as a kid. You'd use blankets(!) to help you keep out the world - to protect yourself from the buffets of existence. In this sense rain is a rather benign buffet (at least the way it falls around here - obviously I'd feel differently about it if I was in Pakistan of India during monsoon season) that makes me feel competent in my ability to manage a challenge. The house doesn't leak. We're warm. It's like we're holed up in the forts we built under the basement stairs, or out of the dining room chairs that we dragged into the family room and draped with blankets. We cocoon ourselves inside and just be, together. If I have to go out in it, it's an adventure from which I know I will return to the fort. Long, steady rains like this one remind me of how good we have it. It's wet outside, but not in here. It's windy and cool out there, but not in here.
As I rode into the village today, my oversized, not even water-resistant, windbreaker flapping wet in the north wind, a flock of birds, likely blackbirds, were chattering loudly from the high hedge on Steve's yard. I looked over and couldn't see them. They were inside it of course. And I think they were trying to decide whether to head out and keep flying south, or not. Just when I passed by I bet some idiot said that it would be better to keep moving, to which the rest of the flock responded by drowning him out for his nuttiness. We're staying in here, they said. It's stupid wet out there. We just have to be patient. The clouds will move, the sun will shine through again. Now's a good time to hang around in here and relax. Save up energy for the journey to come.
The ride in: 8'C Wind NE 10 ks
The ride home: 9'C Wind NNE 25 - 30 ks (rain)
No comments:
Post a Comment