I survived the big storm today. Barely.
Our subway system is not prepared for anything but normal. A few drops of rain and all the trains run late.
With today’s downpour that came down in sheets, the rails were slick and the trip into the city was a jerky experience.
Our conductor looked worried. He ran up and down the cars unlocking and then locking us inside in case we fell out. Did he know something we didn’t? How could we fall out? We spent a good deal of time paralyzed on the tracks.
We finally made it into the city. Then came the adventure of walking to the office. Or should I say crossing the Jordan to the office. Except the waters didn’t dry up for me. I waded my way there, getting progressively more drenched as I neared my destination. By the time I arrived, my freshly washed hair looked like a mop, and I was soaked through from the waist down. Never mind that I wore rain boots, a raincoat and held an umbrella. There was no hope of staying dry.
I don’t care how it comes down.
Rain is moody weather. With it comes gray skies, glistening sidewalks, and splashing water from automobile tires. If you’re in the country, then it’s broody skies with different shades of gray, crackling lightning, and drumming thunder. It’s God’s theatrical show free of charge.
I grew up with thunderstorms that stopped your heart they were so powerful. I also grew up with earthquakes. My relationship with God started when I was a child. I wasn’t going to fool around with someone who could produce such power on demand.
I still laugh every time the weatherman makes a prediction.
Like today. Okay it’s wet, but nothing close to the fear instilled in us by the media to stay home and keep dry.
Where is everyone’s sense of awe?