Saturday, August 27, 2011

Swinging in the rain... Just swiiinging in the rain...

There isn't anything quite like a summer rain. The aroma that the water and earth produce is nothing short of exotic. Here, in suburban Illinois, I have access to an exotic smell. Amazing.

Even more amazing is the absolute joy coursing through my heart as my children are screaming through the raindrops. Dashing from yard to yard... Getting soaked and muddy and LOVING IT.

When I was a child, there was a large, open church field directly behind my house. My best friend and I would spend hours getting "lost" in that field. Hiding behind pine trees and under the church stoops, we would pretend to be explorers on the ocean. Sometimes we were pirates that cruelly stole loot and buried it in the baseball dugout. Sometimes we were orphans, searching for a family to love us while we survived countless tragedies. One of the best assets to our imagination was an honest-to-gosh rainstorm. A steady downpour in the middle of summer was best so our moms wouldn't claim it was too cold to get wet. A good soaking added dimension to our flailing shipwrecks and dramatic rescues. In a rainstorm, even the dingy gray rocks of Illinois become sparkling rubies and diamonds for orphans and pirates to uncover...

All of those memories flood back to my consciousness whenever it rains. And to witness my own children constructing their own memories of playing in a storm never fails to stagger me...

Originally posted in summer of 2009. Reposted today because I am plum tired.
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