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on Pretty Rain - 2005-10-20
The rain falls like pretty beads, casading over the land and over the people, heads bent, eyes down, arms crossed, umbrellas open. It's like a pantomime. Umbrellas are everywhere. All in plain uniform shades - blue, black, pink, yellow. Follow the yellow with your eyes, it's a pretty one, and the girl holding it is special. I don't have an umbrella. Didn't think to take it. So I walk with my head bent, eyes down, arms crossed, clothes wet. When I get to shelter the beads of water on my spectacles makes a boy laugh. I wipe myself down with paper - it's not good to be wet by rain. It's even worse to be wet by rain then sit in a cold room for fifty minutes. My hair is wet, too. Going back is a challenge, because the rain hasn't stopped, and I don't want to be wet again. It's nice to be dry on a cold day like this. Rain on your skin evaporates, taking energy in the form of the latent heat of vaporisation - 2.26 x 10^8 J/kg - and it makes one shiver. It takes the plants to remind me that I like the rain. As I walk under a tree it shelters me, and I look up in surprise, wondering where the water went. And there it is, all around me, casading in pretty beads, nourishing the earth. I don't quite dance - I'm not wearing the right shoes - but I'm not walking head bent anymore. I take off my spectacles and the rain is kinder on my face. My clothes are wet but they will dry. My hair is wet but it will dry. But right now it is raining and it is a gift to the plants and the people that grow them. Tomorrow I will probably fall ill, but today I have the rain. And it is very pretty rain.
- - 2006-05-29 |