Caught in the Rain

It’s situations like these where having my face pummeled by walking or stomping or running or jumping feet is validated.

We all have our moments. These instances come across as obvious or picked up on after a brief amount of time. If I had a heart, it would be worn on my sleeve. (Actually, there is a heart within me, at my core.)

Sometimes I forget.

As for having a “poker face”: I don’t really have one. When it comes to showcasing feelings or moods, being blatant and overzealous is the way to go big or go home. At my high points, my elation can peak as high as mountains. There are also the pitfalls and perceived precipices — there is always a bottom. However, there’s a trampoline deep down in the holes. After the couple bounces to gain composure and confidence, there is always the opportunity to find the groove of motion, and it’s important to use the movement to an advantage.

It’s important to have thick skin. I have layers of them.

Getting drenched doesn’t bother me. Having the rain fall down and hit me in the face isn’t too concerning. The water does affect me, but it doesn’t make me ill. There is always an opportunity to dry off; but the long dry spells equally annoy me as the constant bombardment.

(The bombardment of precipitation includes snow, and this is especially in this region.)

Enough about me. Let’s get to this particular moment. The two stood there in the soft rain, in the front of the Skaneateles small business lot. Regardless of the window they were in front of; with reference to the address of 18 W. Genesee St., all of the shops are relative.

Just because I happen to be there, don’t blame me for gawking. I have the ability to spread myself, multitask and cover as much ground as I can — har har har.

As much as the scene played out in slow motion, it was just as much of a quickly fleeting moment. He held her with both hands resting on her hips. Her right hand fixed itself to the back of his head, and she pulled their faces closer together.

The car was running, waiting, anticipating and bracing itself for the warmth the two collectively would bring into the vehicle. Their heads tilted left as their lips connected, which generated warmth within themselves; I could almost osmotically feel it through their rubber soles; and there was enough rain to make that transfer, well, fluid. Her left hand’s fingers ran through and gripped the hairs on the back of his head.

Ah, romance! (It was in lamplight, err sconce light nonetheless.) There was no understanding what was being said or what was going through their minds, and so they could be celebrating something, anything. If it’s not an anniversary, it should be the thought of being together.

At the same time the running surface water, the small streams with feeble-yet-persistent currents, felt almost like a massage. In similar fashion, the blood in their bodies flowed even more smoothly. All of this put me even more at ease.

To restate: It’s situations like these where having my face pummeled by walking or stomping or running or jumping feet is validated. At the moment, like many times in their past, they stood on common ground. I’m glad I could support them.

 


 

 

Cover photo: Skaneateles Pier, personally taken in 2012.

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