Fog and rain

Everything is quieter when there’s rain and fog.

That’s what I’ve always thought anyway.

In case you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a go, go, go, go, go — keep going — kind of gal. I don’t go to the movies because sitting still for that long drives me bonkers. My brain, personality, and body have to always be moving. Even when I’m sitting writing, I’m thinking about what is going to come next — what word, what action, what…

Days like today are my favorites. Because for some reason, a good rain and fog makes me slow down, take a breath, and makes me feel like someone took a fleece blanket and wrapped it as tightly around me as they could, with the material slowly giving way and stretching to loosen ever so slightly with each breath.

I have always loved the rain.

On rain runs, my strides get quieter somehow, even when I slap through a puddle.

I don’t use music during a rain run. I like to listen to the drips from doorways and rooftops and the steady stream flushing out of gutters.

I don’t like running with people when there’s rain: As if the miles are sacred and mine alone.

Even when I’m worn out and tired, a good rain run seems to wash my wounds, and fill me up again so I can go back to being mom, editor, writer, do-er, go, go,go, go, go…

I see best and most clearly in the rain and fog.

 

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