Like walkin’ in the rain and the snow when there’s nowhere to go

I treated myself to a nice walk in the rain Monday afternoon…unplanned, of course, but still so very pleasant that I wasn’t even mad at Pete Petoniak, the WLUK weatherman who had assured me and all his viewers that it would not rain until “after dinner”.

“What time do you eat dinner, Pete?” I thought when I first felt the drops around 3 p.m.

Then, I took a deep breath and realized I should probably enjoy one of the last opportunities I might have to walk in a nice summery rain.

Rain smells like peace if you let it; it feels fresh and clean.

You don’t have to talk when you walk in the rain because there’s rarely anyone else out there. You can turn your face toward it and let it wash the day away if you don’t mind a little smearing.

I loved it.

I met a kindred spirit on a park bench near the river when I wandered over to watch the rain splash there. Herman Knoke died in 2008, but his family dedicated a bench along the Fox River to the memory of him and his wife Mary.

Of course, I looked him up and it turns out that Herman played guitar and harmonica and liked to track eagle’s nests along the Fox River. A family man with three kids and four grandchildren (maybe more by now), Herman also liked camping and, in his later years, took up tomahawk throwing.

How cool is that?

I tipped my hooded head to Herman and Mary, then I headed for home. I’d have wandered a little more, but I thought I should have some compassion for my faithful companion, my phone, which was not loving the rain nearly as much as I was.

I’m not going to be out there tramping through the rain every day (though we’ve all had plenty of opportunities to do so lately!). But, I hope I get at least one rainy tramp (and several snowy walks) a year to remind me how sweet it can be.

I hadn’t planned it, but I ended up loving my walk in the rain.
There’s something very peaceful about the sound of rain on still-green leaves.
Just a peak of fall colors showed up to remind me how fleeting these seasons are.
I’m a sucker for a lone bench parked on the water…
…and I always honor the dedicated ones. I’ve been introduced to a lot of cool people through my appreciation of bench dedications.
I took this shot a few seasons ago, but I think it’s apropos now. Don’t you fret, my dear readers. I don’t feel any pain. A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now. You’re here. That’s all I need to know. (Sorry. Bug Broadway musical fan here. Sometimes I can’t help myself.)
Listen! It sounds like peace too.

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