Last night I arrived home from work – and like usual, after greeting the kids, I summoned the dog, took the lead and headed out for a walk around the block.It’s a nice way to transition back to home after a day in the office. The dog is rearing to go. We head out and meet the night. At this time of year, there’s only a whisper of light left. The shadows are deep. The mountain in the distance is dark and calls the night.
A great cloud had masked the mountain and a bitter wind blew. If I was out for any longer, or further from home, I’d have grabbed a thicker, warmer jacket. But after a day in the heated office, along with the stuffiness of the train full tired bodies leaning towards thoughts of homes, couches and warm food – I was keen to head out, and happy to go as I was.
Within a few minutes, a pattering of raindrops started. As we walked, the icy wind danced around, the darkness grew, and the rain fell harder.
What was an enthusiastic dog when we set off, quickly became subdued and focused – on getting home.
The southerly wind was bracing. The persistent rain quietly soaked my hair, face and clothes. After a day in thermostatic comfort, it was a startling surprise to be caught out, and yet it was beautiful. I couldn’t hide away – and honestly, I’m not sure I wanted to. Home, with its warmth, its light, and dry clothes, were just around the corner. For the time being, the raindrops found their own little rivulets down my face, collecting in drops that sat on the fabric of my cardigan, and with the wind snapping around, the cold sunk into my exposed hands.
We’ve not had much rain for what feels like weeks – or even months. The garden is dry and dusty. The earth is parched. First the season turned, bringing the cold. And then here is the rain.
When we arrived back, first the dog and then I had a good dry off, and we basked in the welcome of a warm and snug home. The memory of soggy hair and clothes failed to dampen my mood, rather, I felt invigorated - carrying a different type of glow within. I was glad to have been caught out without the protection of gumboots, umbrella and rain jacket. I was grateful that the great cloud had moved from the mountain and over the hills to us. For there had been a few minutes where it was the rain, the dog and I alone in the enfolding dark. It woke me up. It called me back to me. The preciousness, wildness and magnificence of life sung. The raindrops refreshed the ground, it soaked the dog, and blessed a middle-aged woman in delighted surprise.
