Dodging Bullets

singing in the rain, rain, british rain,I sit here at my desk dripping, writing this very sentence. I have donned a new shirt from the wardrobe after stripping myself of clothes, and have just wrapped myself in my dressing gown. Now you maybe wondering what on earth I am talking about, so maybe I should explain.

If you are english you are all to familiar with this event and occurrence. And if you are from other nations outside the UK, then you probably use this as a stereotype for my country. Yes it is the old fashioned, almost weekly event of raining. As my little island begins to shift towards winter, we now start to get more and more rain. Wonderful. And this means that, like today, when I go for a walk, I end up getting soaked by it, for only ten minutes ago it was a bright blue sky and warming sunshine, cooled off by a gentle breeze. Ten minutes later to now, black clouds, torrential rain, and most wonderfully, thunderous, well thunder.

Yes Great Britain, The United Kingdom, England, it is a land of rolling hills, endless fields and pouring rain. And do you know what? I love it. Many of my readers may be thinking i am absolutely mad enjoying the rain, but I can assure you I am perfectly sane. I suppose it comes from being english really. It is as if we are brought up to admire, fantasize and be fascinated by the wonder of meteorology and the wonder of our weather. But my Englishness aside, the rain and thunder really is pretty amazing.

So where was I? Ah yes, I was walking through some autumn fields, blazer over a shirt, some corduroy trousers, and a pair of good ol’ fashioned green wellies. I was happily strolling along, admiring the song of little birds chattering in the hedgerows, the sun gently beating on my face, and a whisper of wind blowing through my hair, when the clouds decided now was an ideal time play havoc. there was a light set of tiny drops, mostly missing me. this was merely a prologue to the event that was to be acted out.

From nowhere, the clouds burst their bellies, and the giant sponge released a flood of water. needless to say I am miles from shelter or urban civilisation, and absent of a rain coat  or umbrella, so the only thing between me and the rain is the thin shirt and blazer I happened to be wearing. So, my dog lead in hand, I run as fast as possible out of the open field to a small gate, where I mange to get shelter under some willow trees.

I say shelter, at this time of year, willow trees are losing their leaves. Not only this, the wind had picked up and was now blowing rain right under the branches of the tree, and straight at my walking companions and I. So we now have the perfect combination for what might be considered a disaster of a walk, rain, howling winds, and all of us dripping wet without a shelter or any form of rain protection. But what we did wasn’t moan, or gaggle together or even to stand angrily under the tree waiting for the rain to leave. No, we stood and laughed at how silly we all looked. Everyone’s hair was soaked and had become like rat tails, dripping down our faces. My blazer was drenched and dripping at the cuffs and trim. And my dog, who had ran the fastest to shelter, was also soaked. and what was more pleasurable, is that it wasn’t just us running from the rain, a small herd of cows, bulls cows and calves were running for shelter under a nearby hedge and tree. After admiring their ingenuity to hide under a better tree than ours, we gathered ourselves together, and walked the rest of the walk in the rain.

And can I say, it was the most wonderful walk I have done in a long time. The lake we were walking by rippled and bubbles as the drops of rain plunged into it. Over head a rainbow began to refract into life, and the sound of the pitter patter of rain on leaves was somewhat relaxing. And then, the tranquility was shattered as the crack of lightning thundered across the sky. After the initial duck and cover of everyone, I couldn’t help but be amazed by it. All my fellow walkers were waiting for me to explain what thunder is, which is basically the sound energy from electricity striking the earth, or electricity from the earth striking the clouds. And that is really beautiful to see the sky light up, followed by this roar of the crack of the electrical whip. We continued our walk, after admiring the lightning in the distance, and arrived back at our cars. It was then that the rain had stopped. Typical. But that is sods law for you.

And now I sit here, finishing this final paragraph looking out from my window, seeing the last drops of todays golden sunlight flowing over the now soft purple clouds. And as i am finishing this post, I cant help but feel everyone should dodge the bullets of rain, and see the true brilliance and wonder of it. Ok rain isn’t nice all the time, but from time to time, running in the rain can make for a good afternoon of laughter and excitement. Nature really does perform the best play on this planet, and it is fantastic for it is also free and around us everywhere we are. Even lying in bed, the pitter of rain on the window sill can be the most relaxing sound in my mind. There is something primitive in me that enjoys the sounds of nature. But that’s also the Britishness in me, and my love for the countryside.

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2 thoughts on “Dodging Bullets

  1. I’ve spent a lot of time in Vancouver, Canada, and also came to love rain, especially the way it cleans the air, and makes everything smell wonderfully fresh. I remember my first visit to Lima, Peru, where it hasn’t rained in fifty years and all the men all urinate against the walls. It was shocking how odoriferous that city was. Really made me appreciate regular rain.
    The other thing I love about rain, especially the Scotch mist of Vancouver, is that it makes the pavement graphically black, and everything sparkles and shines. But Vancouver seldom has a deluge. For that you need Toronto. Your wonderful essay brought back a walk I had there when caught in the rain. It was so absurdly heavy that, like you, I couldn’t help laughing. People were looking at me strangely, but what joy. Also, I remember staying at a house in Cabbagetown. When the deluge started on a hot summer day, we hippies all went out into the front yard with bars of soap, stripped off our clothes and had a great shower, much to the amusement of the neighbours. That’s an upscale neighborhood now. Probably couldn’t get away with that these days.
    Thanks for bringing back all the great memories.

    • Thank you again for another wonderful comment. Im glad i brought back memories for you, and i really enjoyed reading yours. I also like the smell of rain, not just the freshness, but theres a subtle smell underlying all the higher tones. Unfortunately here, it is rare that everything shines after rain, all the cities and towns just look black and dull. The sort of thing i can imagine being photographed for George Orwell’s 1984. The countryside though, if the sun gets a chance to pick up if it hasn’t rained all day, looks transcendent. The tree tops glisten, the grass twinkles and the rolling hills seem to shine as silver. The bars of soap thing sounds surprisingly fun, not that i could do it. I have been adventurous in winter, with deciding to walk barefoot in the snow that fell up-to about a foot deep. That was another sort of laughing moment. But thank you for replying, its nice to know I’m not the only mad man who enjoys laughing at the rain.

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