Monday, September 27, 2010

Memories of Rain

Port Saint Joe - The Bay in Rain

Memories of rain; standing at the window waiting for my dad to come home. The wind is blowing and I can hear the ocean roaring as it hits the sand harder and harder. My mom and neighbors are boarding up the picture window as Camille is going to be close. Waiting and watching for my dad.

Early morning the summer before 9th grade my first real boyfriend and I, Allen are walking in a soft warm rain. Too young to date or drive, our morning ritual is to awake early and walk the paths of the forest to watch the sun rise, that day when it began to drizzle we just kept going.

Rain, the sound, the smell and the feel can be soft and refreshing or harsh and brutal much like love and life itself. Today the rain has been soft, going on and on feeding the thirsty plants in my much neglected garden. They are so thankful even the tall and proud Goldenrod has bent its head in thanks.

My first date with Frank was in the rain… riding to Augusta GA in that wonderful sexy red Mustang. The rain was falling and the one and only working wiper did little to keep Frank’s window clean, I was blind to what lay ahead and drunk with the notion that I didn’t care as I was in love and loved back. Running on Empty by Jackson Browne was playing on the radio as we flew through the rain towards our future.
It rained the day we were married, not a hard rain but soft and gentle and just enough of it to move the wedding inside, it was still beautiful. Crisp and clean, the colors of Fall touching the trees and making them glow.

We have fished in the rain, moved in the rain and mourned in the rain over the past 30 plus years, nothing makes me more humble or feeling alive than the sound of the rain hitting the trees or dripping on the porch. It’s reminder that life goes on and if just let it, life will wash your cares away.
May you my friends always have enough rain in your lives to give you rainbows.


Pblacksaw said...

we went frog gigging in the rain once when Beth and Anthony were little.. we sang to them while the men searched high and low for's funny.. I have been gigging.. I even went gigging in the rain but I have never tasted frog legs.. I must be a

Camella Black said...

Patsy, I remember and yes we need to do it again, give me a month or two and I'll be ready. I have never tasted frog legs either, I just can't do it!