Over the last day or two, the skies here in Missouri have alternated between overcast with occasional broken clouds and a few streams of sunshine to banks of dark clouds coating most everything with light to moderately heavy rain showers. When the rains have come there has not been too much thunder and lightning (so far) unless it happened after I checked into the Sleepy Night Night Hotel. I love the sound of rain and the noise patterns are like a lullaby to me. In theory, I wouldn’t mind living in Seattle part-time and here in the midwest part-time. Go up to Seattle for about a month to get my fill of rain and the calming effects. Then when my inner being starts jonesing to play ball, jet back to Missouri for some humid and sweaty softball for a couple weeks. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Some of you know my affinity for softball and my propensity for playing multiple times per week. But softball in the rain and soggy conditions is really not that fun. So this would be a cake and eat it situation. Almost nothing in sports is worse than playing ball in the rain or after it has rained and the field is soaked. Wet slippery grass and muddy spots on the field turn your shoes into heavy, nasty, squishing foot huggers. Then they sit in the car until the next morning. Upon entering your car the offending smell is as if a corpse has taken a Taco Bell dump under your seat. It’s awful and not easily dissipated. It is best to leave your shoes outside in a place they will not get any wetter and have a chance to dry out. OK that is enough stinky shoe commentary. Brass tax on the subject – softball is better in dry conditions – preferably cooler temperatures but I will take hot and dry over wet and cool.
So back to my original thought: rain. There is something about the rain that mesmerizes me. When the dark clouds gather and the wind kicks up and the first few drops start falling, I feel a certain anticipation. I feel a greed. I do not want just a sprinkle of rain. Do not tease me. Have the sky turn black as night and let the drops get bigger and fall faster until it looks like a curtain of water. The water pools and joins with smaller puddles until they overflow and start trickling downhill. Those trickles join up and make a stream and those streams crash together and make a river. I love the white noise of the rain and the sound of the water smacking the pavement, cars and pools of water. Throw in a random rumble of thunder and it just feels primal and right. I guess I am just a freak of nature who enjoys thunder storms.
So whether (get the pun?) I am sitting in a dugout in Springfield, MO waiting for the showers to pass for the rest of my softball tourney to continue or in my car barely able to see out the windshield or home in bed listening with my eyes closed as the rain pounds down – I love the rain and the associated memories that flood into my brain. So let it rain, softball will wait.
Happy Hump Day to everyone on the face of the Earth who has an internet connection and surfed into my tiny piece of cyberspace. Hang out for a second and soak up the concept. Feel free to leave me a comment or send me an email.
Peace under a colorful umbrella to you…