Rain is water is rain

Yesterday, my friend and I swam in her pool — joyously and with the rain coming down if not in buckets, then in really nice, tall champagne flutes. We were treading water and talking — always talking — when the rain began — and there hadn’t been any sun to begin with. So we just continued to tread and talk and talk and tread — and even to float a little.

It felt like a moment I’ll remember. I think it’s because we were there, able to tread water, able to talk, able to laugh with faces upturned to the rain. We’re not ill, we’re not injured, we’re not homeless and we’re not trying to figure out ways to abscond for greener pastures — at least not noticeably.

We were there. So we turned our faces toward the rain. No, we didn’t drink it in — that would have required music, which isn’t at all our style.

We just smiled.


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