writing prompt: raindrops on roses

Well, there are no roses in my back yard – I’m not nearly attentive enough a gardener to go down that route. I tend to prefer plants that fend well for themselves; I have lilies, peonies, hydrangeas, lily of the valley, and some raspberry bushes that reward me with tart treats right around my birthday. This year as a whole has been strange, weather-wise, and our summer has been soggy, to put it mildly. And oddly enough, I haven’t experienced a single instance of that warm summer rain that you walk barefoot in, completely oblivious to the fact you are drenched through and through. It’s a blissful occurrence that I warmly recommend to everyone.

I was once caught in such a downpour as I was walking home from the mall. It was coming down hard, but it was warmer than any swimming pool. In any event, I must have looked pitiful, because I actually had four separate cars slow beside me and ask whether I wanted a lift. I thanked all four profusely, but with a beaming smile, declined their invitation, saying it was a lovely experience. I remember one lady, a soccer-mom type, who wistfully smiled back at me before driving off; for a moment, I think something clicked inside her, a long-forgotten memory of treating herself to silly things like walking in the rain. That glimpse in her eye seemed to betray a sudden urge to pull over and join me. I do hope she did eventually yield to that harmless temptation.

The last time I was blessed with such summer rain was during a street fair event in Montreal. Sainte-Catherine Street is the commercial artery stretching east-west through the downtown area, bustling at all hours of the day or night, both on the sidewalks and the street itself. It had been closed for a huge sidewalk sale/community fair, all the way from Atwater Street to University Street, if memory serves me correctly. That’s a stretch of almost 2 kilometres reclaimed from vehicular traffic, if only for a few days. The train station was at one end of this route, and the booth where I was volunteering at the other. As the day wrapped up, it began to rain, first a few drops that barely gave visitors pause, gradually growing to a forceful shower that prompted people to take cover. We were soaked by the time the booth was taken down anyway, so I enjoyed the stroll back to the train station, fully appreciating walking down the centre line of what is usually a safety nightmare for pedestrians. (OK, so Montreal pedestrians themselves are a nightmare, but that’s a whole other post!) The majority of people huddled under shopkeeper’s canopies, while the rest of us ambled about, smiling knowingly at each other in acknowledgement that we were sharing a delightful secret in the midst of the unaware.

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