close up photography of green leaf plant
Photo by Javon Swaby on

those trinkets that cause an instant memory jog or jump, instant time travel backwards to a specific happenstance or thought, these, are triggers.
here we are in the throes of summer, no, no, that doesn’t sound right, the grip of summer, no, neither, that isn’t quite it, does not convey the feel at all,
“here we are traversing the winding path through the baking jungle of summer”
(OK, I can live with that one).
summer rain. a trigger, in a couple of ways, let me explain if you will lend me your time.
the first- driving, driving home on the parkway, windows down (which in itself is part of the freedom of summer anyway), the pavement has been beaten flat with bombardment, rays of sunshine flagellating on the surface for all the day, the visual aspect of heat belly dances along the surface in the distance distorting the air itself, all the while this solar energy is soaking into the black sponge supporting all means of traffic, and then the break, a dark grey breach rolls in, like an instant the rain is unleashed but yet still with the sun not quite out of sight so the light bounces off the rain, showering the earth in a million rainbow shards, the mixture is almost confusing to the mind, rain and sun combined? how can this be, even today my jaded mind is always surprised by this, this I have seen one thousand times at least, then it hits me, this strange smell, intoxicating even if it should not be, there is this strange combination of asphalt, oil, dirt, grime and what not that is released into the atmosphere as the rain quenches audibly the scorched plains before me, almost like a garage but some how, dare I say, refreshing? I know, it may sound strange, but it is the instant trigger of summer road trip, maybe being stuck in a car for hours dulls the senses and this strange invasion of odor somehow seduces reason into being non reason, but that smell, somehow, invigorating, a sunny rain in the summer on a hot road.

rain drops
Photo by Pixabay on

the second– and I will stick with the theme, the little dots begin to overlap on the steps, faster now they overstep the next trying to outdo the first and last, until there is a thunderous downpour top to bottom straight down, the land has been wishing for this all day, green once wilted all around is starting to spring into shape and take a sip, no a gulp, no the rain is running in and out of their mouths of capacity overflow, finding new lakes and pools in the sidewalks bent, rolling in mini flash floods aside the curbs, the house gutters come alive like instant log flumes, there is so much rain in the air it commandeers the air itself, there is a smell to it, a presence of palpable odor, a musty mist of sorts, as if a drop has hit the hot earth and exploded into your direction like an aerosol bomb , over and again, the suspended rain is what fills your mouth and lungs now, you feel the bend and bough of the grass as the bath flashes over and relieves the yolk of the combined heat of the day, you can feel the oppression being washed away, I feel the same, you almost get used to the blanket of humidity, the heavy air on your shoulders, combined with a pharaoh of intense sun, there seems to no reprieve, sweat nearly keeps the beast at bay but in itself provides very little relief, but that rain, a cleansing time, off comes my hat to look skyward and let the drops wash the sweat from my face, is there ever a more clean feeling, than this? all time falls, I feel like a pure radiant soul in a waterfall…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s