after the rain

During the rainy season the luminous clouds roll in like clockwork.  We work outside in the morning when it’s cool and play in the backyard in the late morning after breakfast.  Then it’s lunch and naps.  By the time we wake up in the afternoon it’s far too muggy to venture out.  So we wait.  We wait for the sun to hide and the clouds to saunter in.  The grass gets greener and the sky turns eerie and the pre rain smell wafts on the sticky breeze and the air gets heavy.  Sounds are intensified and the thunder rumbles quiet and dull and low.  The sky opens up and the sweet cleansing rain starts to wash away our sidewalk chalk and our skid marks.  Like drops of water on the hot pancake skillet, the raindrops eventually overwhelm the baking pavement and cool it  to something a little less than scalding.
We wake up from our napping pile calmly one at a time smiling in silence at each other.  We untangle and lay in bed while we listen to the fat raindrops pelting the window.  After ample stretching and cuddling we emerge from our nest like a bear family waking from hibernation.  We take our places at the dining room table.  I open the blinds so we can watch the storm while and eat cucumbers and drink icy root beer.  We sit in the dark munching and dipping our hands into the cool saltwater retrieving cucumber slices.  We search for the skinny ones with the highest salt to cuke ratio.  Just when we think it cannot possibly rain any harder it does, and it comes down in sheets overwhelming the eaves troughs.  My mind drifts to the backyard gardens.  The tomato under the drain spout has fought a valiant battle this rainy season, but today’s storm wills surely do him in.  I should have a garden full of little seedlings taking advantage of this soaking rain.  Instead, I have an empty garden save one aggressive rosemary plant.  My mind comes back to the table full of silent boys still puffy with sleep and then without notice the screaming rain turns to speaking rain and then whispering rain and then nothing but the occasional pitter patter.  The sun cautiously makes a reappearance ready to start undoing what the rain has created.  He works to dry up the ditches, heat up the pavement and scorch any new seedlings considering growth. 
We fly up from the table sloshing cucumber water and make our move.



I grab my camera and two shoes.  My lens immediately fogs over.  I wipe with my shirt again and again until my lens acclimates to match the steamy temperature outside.  I snap some test shots of my feet knowing I’ll scrap them later.  I don’t.  A sparkly heel and a men's size 13 flip flop.  This is honest and us, so it will survive editing. 


Those of us who had chosen to nap in the nude throw on whatever we can find, even if it means a pair of backward jeans. 



We don’t even take time to go potty.  It’s time to play.  So we climb to the top of the quarter pipe and slide down.  It’s rather slick when wet and makes for a speedy slide.  Hitting the pavement at the bottom is a bit abrupt but worth it. 


We waste no time tromping into the ditches.  Each one claims their territory. 


The goal being to get as wet as possible, create as much laundry as possible and have the most fun.

 
Bikes turn into make believe wave runners.  Splashing and spraying all spectators including ones with rather expensive cameras.  We do not discriminate.

 
Those of us who put clothes on get photo attention.  Those splashing naked in the driveway with their sippy cups are not afforded the same opportunity.  

   
There is no such thing as a no wake zone.  We race and ride and splash and soak until we’re out of breath and out of memory card space.



Slowly but surely the earth reclaims her water and our ditch way canals dissipate.  We stomp and splash till the water recedes and Daddy comes up the road in his truck. 
We all head inside for a special treat.  Fried chicken and mashed potatoes and movie night.  We cuddle and eat and watch a family movie.  A few nod off as Scott and I cuddle and watch a less appropriate movie while I hold a bag of frozen hushpuppies on a boy with a seriously bruised coccyx,(the result of a scooter/wood floor/mashed potatoes accident).  Carrying each slumbering boy off into another direction, Scott finally gives in to his heavy eyelids and retires.  I remain sitting in my chair computer in hand editing afternoon puddle photos.  I love editing photos by myself in the dark. 
Tomorrow will be more of the same.  Sun and cooking and playing and eating and cleaning and napping and rain and more sun and more eating and more playing and more eating and sleeping and cleaning and editing photos in the dark by myself with some mashed potatoes on the floor.   I can hardly wait.