umbrella | Thinking Through My Lens

My dad always used to say, I’m sweet as sugar and melt in the rain.” He’s the guy who always knew when it would rain in this beautiful but arid place that we live. There was NO interrupting the weather report (night and morning low clouds, mostly sunny is our typical forecast) and he kept a rain gauge in the yard to confirm rainfall amounts. To be fair, he did work for years in construction, driving a water truck, which meant that when it did rain, he did not work.

So on a rainy day, like today, I find that my dad is on my mind. My oldest son has taken on the I’m sweet as sugar and melt in the rain mantra, so it remains a family saying. I often find myself telling my students you won’t melt when they point out a few raindrops. Rain is pretty rare in these parts–although we’ve had a few rainy years before this much drier year. Typical rainfall for San Diego measures at less than 10 inches annually.

Our school was built to take advantage of the ocean view and the mostly dry conditions. Our students eat outside everyday (except when it is rainy–in which case they eat in the classroom–ugh!), hang their backpacks on hooks outside the classroom (which are outside), place their lunchboxes on a wheeled cart that sits outside the classroom and we wheel down to our outdoor lunch area, walk through hallways with no cover, and we have this weird drain that directs moisture from the roof onto the sidewalk in front of the classroom door!

Needless to say, rainy days at school are not my favorite.

But…I do love rain. There is something about the sound of raindrops that feels soothing, comforting–the rhythm of nature’s percussion. After being cooped up with students (they love the novelty of a rainy day), standing with them at pickup time huddled close under my umbrella since we have no overhang to stand under to avoid being soaked, and rearranging my lesson plans on the fly since I had planned an outdoor activity during my language arts time today…my husband generously reminded me I could pedal our stationary bike instead of taking my usual outdoor walk today since the rain was still coming down.

But instead, since the rain had lessened, I was determined to take an outdoor walk. So when I got home, I switched over to a lighter raincoat (the one I had worn to work today felt too heavy for a walk), reminded my husband that he didn’t have to come with me in the rain, and got ready to head out. But Geoff being Geoff, grabbed an umbrella and encouraged me to grab mine…and then we headed out for a rainy day walk.

It was a gentle rain, with the soft pitter-patter tapping on the umbrella. The snails were out in force, their eyestalks stretched out as they slipped along the wet sidewalks of my neighborhood. Where are they when it is not raining? Do they hide in the leaf litter or under the shrubs? Raindrops glistened from the purple blossoms emerging from the trees and dripped from the branches of the leafing sycamores.

I came home damp and refreshed, relishing the sweetness of the rain and not worrying at all about melting. And I felt my dad with me all day today, his presence like a hug, a comfort that came along with the gift of rain.

It never rains in Southern California… So the song says. And for many years in the last decade that has been true. But in the last couple of years, rain has become a regular feature of winter weather. I’m quick to acknowledge that we need the rain (and that a lot of rain may seem like a small amount to others given that average rainfall for San Diego is under ten inches per year).

And to top things off, the rain seems so unpredictable lately. Yesterday, for example dawned sunny and bright. The day was beautiful and warm, but weather forecasters promised rain by afternoon commute time. And they were right. It actually rained on me during my after work walk…pretty much on schedule. We had rain all evening and some overnight. But the rain stopped by the time my alarm rang, and the day was supposed to be dry.

So, given that forecast, I didn’t dress for rain. I even looked at my umbrella (I had taken it on Saturday to our conference) and told my husband that I wouldn’t need it and then headed out for the university. As I pulled off the freeway to make my way to the parking structure I spied a rainbow…and a very dark cloud. Raindrops began to splatter on my windshield. Oh no, I thought, my umbrella is sitting at home. And the walk from the parking structure to the office is not a short one.

I pulled into the covered parking structure and remembered the conversation my husband and i had last weekend. He was telling me there was an umbrella in my car. Really? I asked. I sure didn’t know about any umbrella in my car. It’s way in the back, in that supply bag I keep in there, he explains.

I’m feeling hopeful as I zip up my jacket, pull my backpack onto my shoulders, and open the back hatch of my car. Sure enough, a small green umbrella is tucked in with the roll of toilet paper, a roll of paper towels, and some other odds and ends.

Today it was a lucky green umbrella, keeping me and my stuff dry as I walked from the parking structure to the office with raindrops tapping a rhythm on the umbrella above my head.