Telling me just what a fool I've been
I wish that it would go and let me cry in vain
And let me be alone again.
--The Cascades, Rhythm of the Rain (1963)
It's been a dry summer in the Northwest Corner. Not abnormally dry, not a drought. But only occasional sprinkles.
But today, it rained pretty much all day. Steadily.
So, I thought. Do I go out for my usual four-mile walk? Or do I curl up with a book, and let my kittens crawl all over me?
Right. I went for a walk. And I always forget how satisfying it is to walk in the rain. Not a total deluge. Not really like that photo. I'm not a masochist. But in a steady rain, wearing a light windbreaker over a t-shirt -- the temperature was in the high 50s -- and a baseball cap.
The sidewalks and streets had puddles, but the puddles were still small enough to walk around. The walk seemed to go more quickly than usual; the rain had a refreshing, air conditioning effect. And I ran across few people -- we call them "vectors" during this time of Covid-19 -- out walking like myself. So, I had no need to be continually on the outlook for other walkers approaching ahead or sneaking up from behind, alert like a prey in fear of predators.
Did I actually hum as I walked? Possibly.
My mind tends to wander all over the place when I hike or walk; it's like that pleasant state just before you drift off to sleep. The brilliant thought occurred to me that this was a healthy time for walking -- that the rain was washing all the aerosol-bonded virus out of the air. Is that true? I've researched it since I got back, and don't see any definitive conclusions. But since I ran into hardly any other walkers, it really made little difference.
After about 90 minutes of walking -- this was my Sunday walk, up and down, over and around Capitol Hill -- I arrived home in good spirits. Wet, but in good spirits. I really hadn't noticed being wet while I was outside, but my windbreaker obviously needs new water proofing -- my t-shirt was pretty soggy. My jeans were wet from my ankles nearly to my knees. And my baseball cap? Well, you can imagine.
Who cares? As I've noted in past rain-related posts, my body isn't water-soluble. Nor did I catch my death of cold. And I arrived home just in time for a hot cup of coffee, before I slapped together something for dinner.
The Cascades weren't describing me in their little ballad.. The rain didn't tell me I was a fool. It reminded me how beautiful the streets, sidewalks, and parks of Seattle can be, wet or dry, rain or shine. Sometimes, even more beautiful in the rain than in the sun.
Life can be good, folks. Even in the Age of Covid-19.
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