I got thoroughly drenched by a Spring downpour today. It was a violent, dense throw down of a shower, accompanied by gusting wind. I felt immediately permeated by the cold air which was so very different from the foetid, stuffy fug of my classroom. Venturing out for a lunchtime walk without my coat, my shirt and trousers were sodden within minutes. Moments afterwards my clothing felt like drenched sandbags that my body dragged soggily along. It was then that the hail began lancing down, bouncing off my shoulders. I contemplated dashing back indoors.
Yet I didn’t. I revelled in the feeling. Far from adding insult to injury, the hail acclimatised my body, and whilst not warm, I felt invigorated. Clothes and skin felt enrobed by the chill. With water streaming down my face and hands, it was a welcome enveloping of water, and made my body surge with something like adrenaline. A heady mixture of tingling and cleansing lifted my spirits, and as quickly as the deluge appeared, it ceased. As if on cue the cloudbanks shifted onwards and bright sunshine spread a shiny glow over everything. I know it will sound very twee, but I felt a powerful connection to the quiet lane I walked down, and my ears were soothed by the running of water in to the drains at the side of the road. I actually felt myself instantly begin to dry out, and lamented the fact.
Sometimes I can store such moments in time, and write about them days, weeks, months or even years later. Then there are the days like today, when my impressions fade fast and I yearn to get them down before they become leached of feeling and emotion. Sitting here now a mere two hours later, I lament the blandness of my retelling, because as it occurred it was such a wild, intense enjoyment of being outside. It felt wonderful, and my hands still feel a faint impression of the cold water as it met my skin. I suppose a fitting way to describe it is something akin to swimming in clear air. Such was my enjoyment, that I deliberately let the water remain beaded on my hair and face, and other than rolling up my sleeves, allowed myself to dry naturally. So it is that I now crave a fresh drenching, so that I can again feel the rush of being in the open air, away from stale air and arid rooms.
Perhaps next time I shall be able to do it justice.
Copyright Tom Tide 2017.