Thursday, November 20, 2008


My scooter is nearly out of oil, and since I desperately need the exercise I decided to walk down to the car accessories place tonight and pick some up.

It’s a little over half an hour each way. I got down there, bought a couple of bottles of Silkolene fully synthetic two stroke motor oil (the champagne of motor oil, for my Royal Crown Cola of a scooter), then started back. I’d only been walking for five minutes when the heavens abruptly decided that stars and moonlight are so last season, and a thick blanket of rain is what the really happening skies are doing right now.

Great, I thought, sourly. Just great. I’m half an hour away from home, I’m loaded down with shopping, and I’m stuck with a choice between getting soaked in the rain or getting bored standing under a shop awning. Fan-freakin’-tastic.

But then something odd happened. Without warning I felt my resentment suddenly fall away from me (perhaps it was water-soluble?). The rain notwithstanding, it was a pleasant Spring evening. The rain was steady but not pounding down, and there was no hint of a breeze. It was, in short, a lovely night for a walk in the rain.

Once I realised that, I felt more upbeat than I’ve felt in days. When it’s not cold or wind-driven, rain is really rather nice, and I haven’t had a good walk in the rain for at least ten years.

By the time it stopped, nearly half an hour later, I actually missed it.


Anonymous TroyG said...

You walked instead of taking the Folly? How pedestrian.

10:23 AM  
Blogger TimT said...

I salute you, Sir Blandwagon. Not all people are able to approach such situations philosophically.

Here in Melbourne, the late spring weather is surprisingly clement, with many freshening spring showers, but never heavy or drenching. On occasions I am fond of walking through the rain to the train station, whence I catch the train to my place of employ, and when it begins raining, I often amuse myself by standing in the rain and enjoying the sensation, while watching the assorted businessmen and women huddled up under the roof, or painfully squeezing themselves under small umbrellas, in fear of a few tiny droplets of water.

It often amuses me, looking at the suits on train platforms and seeing their paranoid fears and fantasies. Make of that what you will.

10:33 AM  
Anonymous ultrabert said...

Water soluble mood? I think it's a pity you don't have water permeable skin. Would have made for a nice tweak on the title: Dropsy (said with a Grandpa Simpson voice).

...actually, and your demise. So, it's probably better they way it is, your skin that is. Your lovely skin.

11:06 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home