Cloudburst

The wind had changed an 82 degree day into something almost chilly. Soon, an overcast filter cuts the sun’s effectiveness further as people began to gather their loose possessions to prevent losing them.

The sky in the west produced a dark, ominous cloud bank. The wind blew harder. Birds disappeared (where do they go?). A thin transparent veil of shadow reached from the cloud to the ground in the distance. People walked faster and children began to run. A thwock hit my hat; then another and another. Fat raindrops were falling, sideways.

Walking faster, I turned my back to the water. The rain followed me, wetting my shirt, my pants, my underwear, my socks, my shoes, my arms. Water was dripping off my hat. I still had a long way to go.

By the time I reached to streets, the rain had been falling hard for ten minutes. I was surprised to see the storm drains beginning to back up with little puddles covering their grates. At the end of the next block, the puddles had grown to small lakes, creeping backwards up the wheelchair ramp in the sidewalk. Considerate drivers, slowly picked their way past the growing lake, respectful of the pedestrians on the sidewalk. One driver on the other side of the road was unaware of his impending faux pas and ran through the big puddle at 30 miles per hour, sending a big wave of curb water on a man standing on the curb.

“Hey, you %$**#@!!!,” the pedestrian sputtered, seeking revenge, waving his fist.

When I arrived home, I was soaked. Standing on the back porch under the thick canopy of a huge Magnolia, I stripped down to my shorts, and began wringing out my pants with a 60 year old memory… folding them and wringing them and folding them and wringing them…like my Mother would have done, when we lived On Harrisonville Avenue.

RDG