We all turn into Henny Penny at the first drop of rain. We bow our heads and run for shelter as the sky begins to crumble and fall. The sky appears to be made of water and may again shatter and fall completely as it did once before on Noah. This fear is strong and turns ordinary people into Wipeout contestant level athletes.
The moment we find shelter from the potential pre-apocalyptic weather event we turn our heads toward the heavens with a look that says, “Where did that come from?” Even at the end of a long wet winter, with every day forecasted for rain, we are surprised. The clues are all there; dark clouds, puddles at our feet, weeks of preceding precipitation. But still, as we are caught out, we are put out.
We seek out water in so much of our lives. All summer we long to swim in it, we shower in it, wash clothes and dishes in it, we are encouraged to drink at least 2 litres of it everyday, we are told that it makes up 80% of our bodies and 80% of the earth’s surface. But with the hint of a light shower we run in terror.
There is of course armour available to shield us from these air born attacks. The most basic is to wear a jacket. I heard Billie Connolly say about living in Scotland that there is no such thing as bad weather, only wrong clothing. Those who take heed of the daily weather predictions, with their ever-present percentage probability of rain, and carry an umbrella often carry an air of superiority too. Strolling relatively unscathed through the rain as others duck and weave their way to cover affords this feeling of greatness. At least until the wind picks up.
Umbrellas are wonderful in light winds. Anything more than a gentle breeze turns them into a potential weapon far more dangerous than the rain itself. Then there’s the problem of the wet umbrella. Shaking off the excess water at the door exposes to user to the wet hair they were avoiding and could never result in a dry umbrella. A wet umbrella needs to be put somewhere to dry before the satisfying ritual of folding it down and buttoning up the tiny belt can be performed.
Even more satisfying than storing your umbrella correctly is jumping in puddles. Fleeing in white-knuckled, breath-shortening horror from rain is definitely learned behaviour. Kids already outside don’t notice the beginnings of a downpour and are inclined to adopt rain into their games. For toddlers, jumping in puddles can be a whole afternoons entertainment. Watching raindrops fill the puddle and then exploding that puddle into 1000 new raindrops with shiny gumboots will continue to give young kids pleasure for as long as there will be rain.
Let it rain.
