7 October 1997
Yesterday evening rain began to fall as Wende and I were finishing up at the laundry mat. We got home and she carried both baskets up (I unlocked the door) and then she hijacked my keys and pulled us both outside to play in the rain!
We laughed and splashed, giggling, frolicking down the street. I found it difficult to kick puddles at her without getting splashed myself! We kissed and played, hugged for warmth.
Looking up at the fine droplets, I remembered being 7 years old, watching snow gently sift onto my face and tongue while hanging from monkey bars in the back yard. This time, 20 years later, I was wearing shorts and a tank top, barefoot on asphalt, enjoying the night.
The coolest thing we saw was a manhole cover covered with about an inch of water, with little whirlpools slurping water down through the holes. The physics that drive whirlpools intrigues me.
Holding hands, back toward the house we walked, gently not splashing through the puddles. It had stopped raining by the time we got back. I'm so glad Wende encouraged us to go play in the rain.