puddle stompin'

It was high time to revisit the childhood art of puddle stomping. Monday night's pleasant rain provided the opportunity and my Gortex jacket and boots provided the means. As long as my head and feet are warm I'm fairly happy. Clad in my waterproof gear I saunter along the wet sidewalk splashing carelessly through the occasional small puddle. Then I walk down our quiet street dragging my feet through the stream by the curb. At the corner I come across the first large puddle. I enjoy the serenity of wading into the middle of it, immune to the effects of wetness on my shoes. Then a small stomp. Then another. Instinctively I hesitate like a child standing near the entrance to a forbidden room. Part of my mind says, "wait, you'll get cold and wet" and the other part of my mind replies, "exactly!" As the muddy rainwater splashes against my legs a sense of emancipation creeps into me. Carefree, I stomp and kick harder. I hold out my hands to feel the raindrops. The wetter I am, the more liberated I become. Grinning widely I set out again to wander in the rain. My roving path takes me over the freeway, down Lake, and back toward home along Walnut. I receive a few strange glances as I meander from puddle to puddle and pause under the edge of awnings. I walk slowly to enjoy the relaxing sound of the rain hitting my jacket.

I love when it rains in LA. The din of traffic is tempered by the patter of raindrops on pavement. The air is filled with fresh new scents. The dusty, dull roads are replaced by black, glistening asphalt. Surreal ambient lighting covers the freeway as headlights illuminate the mist. The look, the feel, the smells, the sounds of the city are changed. For a brief few hours we are all foreigners in a strange, wet landscape. LA is transformed by the rain. Ritual cleansing. And after the purification a brand new city will wake up under a bright, clear sky. The sun may be LA's sustenance, but the rain is it's rebirth.

By the time I get back to my doorstep my pants are drenched and my hands are cold but my heart is warmed. The first thing I do after taking off my coat is start heating water in the kettle. Sitting at my desk clutching the hot cup of tea in my hands I am absolutely content. For a short while no luxury or pleasure in the world could tempt me away from the sound of rain on the trees outside my window.