pause
I sit on my porch. The rain slowly drips down around me. I see my breath as I exhale I forget it's there until I enter the cold. People walk with their hats trying to protect their eyes from the wet. A pool of water overtakes the base of my driveway and soft drops bounce leaving a ring behind. A bird flies and lands on the electrical pole in front of my house as it chirps gaily. The sun comes out, and I see that the M on Madonna is dry.
I think rain stirs creativity in the soul. It brings a lot of emotions to me, some of sorrow, some of joy that life will be spurred from its presence.
The magnolia out front of my house has fresh dew on its leaves. The flowers are still blooming, not hiding from the midday rain. They must feel joy themselves knowing that they will be able to bloom yet another day. Their fuchsia color is fresh to my eyes. Some pedals have turned a stale shade of brown, yet some are just popping out of their blossom for their first site at the sun, if the clouds did not hide it. The clouds have moved east bringing the rain with them and leaving my magnolias and me a hint of sun, and a deep blue sky. I appreciate the vivid color of the sky more so when I don't see it for a few days. Distance makes the heart grow fonder they say. My heart is fonder.
It's funny when people drive by so fast in front of my porch, for my road is only a block in between 2 stop signs. I wonder where they are trying to get in such a hurry that they need to speed only to slow to a screeching halt to wait for traffic to go by. There goes another one. One night, I was in my room, and I heard a huge screech and screaming and chatter about outside of my window. I looked to see, and a young man was getting off the ground trying to pick up his crotch rocket that had skidded across the road 20 feet. He was cruising down my road well over 50 miles per hour when he lost control and flew off his bike. He was okay, his bike was scratched, and it left me pondering. The need for speed, excitement, and trill runs so many people actions. This thought made me think how I myself need to slow down and have an excuse to. What is it in human brains that we need to go 10 miles faster than the speed limit just to arrive at our destination 3-7 minutes faster. It's almost as if we're on fast-forward. Someone press the pause button please. I need to catch my breath.
In Minnesota, I remember feeling a pause when the snow would downpour, and it would leave me trapped in my house. I never got a snow day being home schooled; I was jealous of the normal kids who listened to the radio and hoped their school was concerned enough to close down the school for the day for the safety of the children. My desk in the basement was of no danger for me to travel to, but just knowing that if I was a normal child, and I did travel to school, I wouldn't have to go. Jealousy would infest my thoughts, but I would get over it after I did my studies and put on my snow-gear and would lie in the snow. It's funny how weather can cause a change in lifestyle. I do think that the rain is a pause button, or at least a slow motion button. It's easy to make life busy and complicated; when it rains, I assess if I want to sacrifice getting wet riding my bike to that destination, or waiting for the bus to come. More often than not, what seemed so important is put into perspective.
I stop, breathe, listen, and absorb.
A few days later: I have to explain the funny situation of riding my bike home in the rain.
Sunday, February 19 was a sunny morning. I wore tights, a skirt, my yellow sweater, and moccasins to church that morning. I left my bike at school the night before because it was raining and hailing so hard, I could not ride home safely. I took the bus to school from church, which was a funny experience in itself to get on this empty bus to go to school on a Sunday. The sky was full of action; the sun shone bright. When arriving at school, I decided to play piano in the Music Building for a few minutes before riding home. When I came out, soft drops ascended on my head. I started laughing. By the time I arrived at my bike, the rain was falling harder and more viscous, but I could not leave it there one more day. So I decided to get on and head home. Students walking to do their weekend studying were laughing at me. I rode on and made it to the top of California, when the rain settled and hail emerged from the angry clouds. This is when my laughter grew louder. For who is in a hailstorm on their bike? At least I had my helmet on. I decided to cruise through puddles because I was already as wet as I was going to be, I mine as well have fun. I finally arrived home safe and sound. My roommate Chloe spotted me entering the driveway, and she greeted me with strong laughter as she saw me drenched. It's fun to be in the rain, and a little hail doesn't hurt. Tomato soup is good.
I think rain stirs creativity in the soul. It brings a lot of emotions to me, some of sorrow, some of joy that life will be spurred from its presence.
The magnolia out front of my house has fresh dew on its leaves. The flowers are still blooming, not hiding from the midday rain. They must feel joy themselves knowing that they will be able to bloom yet another day. Their fuchsia color is fresh to my eyes. Some pedals have turned a stale shade of brown, yet some are just popping out of their blossom for their first site at the sun, if the clouds did not hide it. The clouds have moved east bringing the rain with them and leaving my magnolias and me a hint of sun, and a deep blue sky. I appreciate the vivid color of the sky more so when I don't see it for a few days. Distance makes the heart grow fonder they say. My heart is fonder.
It's funny when people drive by so fast in front of my porch, for my road is only a block in between 2 stop signs. I wonder where they are trying to get in such a hurry that they need to speed only to slow to a screeching halt to wait for traffic to go by. There goes another one. One night, I was in my room, and I heard a huge screech and screaming and chatter about outside of my window. I looked to see, and a young man was getting off the ground trying to pick up his crotch rocket that had skidded across the road 20 feet. He was cruising down my road well over 50 miles per hour when he lost control and flew off his bike. He was okay, his bike was scratched, and it left me pondering. The need for speed, excitement, and trill runs so many people actions. This thought made me think how I myself need to slow down and have an excuse to. What is it in human brains that we need to go 10 miles faster than the speed limit just to arrive at our destination 3-7 minutes faster. It's almost as if we're on fast-forward. Someone press the pause button please. I need to catch my breath.
In Minnesota, I remember feeling a pause when the snow would downpour, and it would leave me trapped in my house. I never got a snow day being home schooled; I was jealous of the normal kids who listened to the radio and hoped their school was concerned enough to close down the school for the day for the safety of the children. My desk in the basement was of no danger for me to travel to, but just knowing that if I was a normal child, and I did travel to school, I wouldn't have to go. Jealousy would infest my thoughts, but I would get over it after I did my studies and put on my snow-gear and would lie in the snow. It's funny how weather can cause a change in lifestyle. I do think that the rain is a pause button, or at least a slow motion button. It's easy to make life busy and complicated; when it rains, I assess if I want to sacrifice getting wet riding my bike to that destination, or waiting for the bus to come. More often than not, what seemed so important is put into perspective.
I stop, breathe, listen, and absorb.
A few days later: I have to explain the funny situation of riding my bike home in the rain.
Sunday, February 19 was a sunny morning. I wore tights, a skirt, my yellow sweater, and moccasins to church that morning. I left my bike at school the night before because it was raining and hailing so hard, I could not ride home safely. I took the bus to school from church, which was a funny experience in itself to get on this empty bus to go to school on a Sunday. The sky was full of action; the sun shone bright. When arriving at school, I decided to play piano in the Music Building for a few minutes before riding home. When I came out, soft drops ascended on my head. I started laughing. By the time I arrived at my bike, the rain was falling harder and more viscous, but I could not leave it there one more day. So I decided to get on and head home. Students walking to do their weekend studying were laughing at me. I rode on and made it to the top of California, when the rain settled and hail emerged from the angry clouds. This is when my laughter grew louder. For who is in a hailstorm on their bike? At least I had my helmet on. I decided to cruise through puddles because I was already as wet as I was going to be, I mine as well have fun. I finally arrived home safe and sound. My roommate Chloe spotted me entering the driveway, and she greeted me with strong laughter as she saw me drenched. It's fun to be in the rain, and a little hail doesn't hurt. Tomato soup is good.
posted by ruthie at 1:51 PM
1 Comments:
ruthie, I could feel the hail on the helmet and I was just starting to think something warm would be good about now when I read your last sentence! aunt di
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