Rainy Days

I love rainy days. The grey sky and muted sounds set my mind at ease and take me back to when I was a kid. The best are the days when it's just constant drizzle, the air, though humid is still slightly cool. The only thing better than being curled up with a good book and a cup of coffee on a day like this would be to throw on my rain coat and go for a hike.
  Rain is transformative, not always for the better, but it is. In the woods the grey skies somehow make things dream like, I can imagine scenes form "Where the Wild Things Are', strange, giant monsters loping out of the gloom. It's as if the mist makes everything mysterious. Maybe I've read too many Stephen King books, or maybe I just refuse to let go of that last bit of wild imagination from my childhood.
  When it rains I am instantly transported back to New England. In Massachusetts, playing in the puddles in the driveway. In Maine, to the coast, watching the grey ocean collide with the grey, rocky shores on one end and the grey horizon on the other. In Vermont, standing on the shore of Lake Champlain, imagining all of the ships that had sunk to the bottom, and the ever elusive lake monster, Champ. I can see, in my mind, the brilliant colors of the Fall foliage against a dreary sky, the trees seeming like fireworks bursting from the mountains. The smells of the woods, damp earth, pine, that ever present green smell that I adore surrounds me and I am instantly at peace.
  Here in Richmond some of my favorite times have been on rainy days. Exploring Hollywood Cemetery with all of its history, the James River and the old, Southern architecture seem to come alive. Standing under a giant Magnolia while rain drips around me off the leaves and flowers, smelling like heaven on earth.
  In South Carolina, marching in formation with what seemed like two hundred pounds of gear on my back, rain trickling into my eyes. My cap and hair plastered to my head, feeling completely exhausted, completely liberated, doing what felt most natural at that time.
  In San Antonio, Texas, where it rarely rained, I can remember a day spent walking around post with my best Battle Buddy, just talking and laughing. We got lost, turned around and around until we finally got our bearings, drenched and happy. We were wearing our ACUs, it was family day. Neither of us had family visiting, so we were each others family for the day.
  In Blackstone, hiding out in the back of our ambulance, telling jokes, waiting for the rain to stop and the exercise to continue. Using some poor, unsuspecting new Private as our personal guinea pig to practice on. Knowing that the people I was with would be friends for life.
And now the rain has stopped, returning me to present day, the reality of daily life. I hope that as Beau grows up he inherits a love of rainy days from both Brian and I. And I hope that he holds on to his imagination forever.