Rainy Days, Saturday May 23rd by Ingrid Littmann-Tai

I watch the heavy raindrops pound the grey cement road in front of our house. Another overcast day awaits us, another Mayday of rain in a city where it rarely rains. We have been in social isolation for over 10 weeks now and I h ave been feeling well. But I am one of those people who live by the weather ; the colour of the day affects my mood. We have seen all seasons over these weeks. White fluffy snow glistened past our windows in March and brighten ed up our views. April brought spring and the sun and we shed our winter layers. We went for long family walks and threw a football as we strolled through the parks coming to life, the grass changing from brown to green and f lowers starting to bud. Through it all I remained optimistic; I was surrounded by my loved ones and felt well. But the rain changes this all. The rain makes me feel sad, the sunless white sky brings me down. My cheery veneer is cracking; I need the light. I can no longer open my front door and feel the sun’s rays caressing my pale winter skin. I can no longer chase my energetic dog through the local dog parks as the pathways are now wet a nd muddy. My lawn chair sits outside, the light fabric soaked through and m y tomato plants look overwhelmed, their leaves hanging down, the rain drops too heavy hammering the life out of them. Normally our street is busy as i t is part of the city bike pathway system and I love watching cyclists pass by as it makes me feel alive and reminds me that there is life around me. But the street is bare again today, like yesterday, no walkers or cyclists in front of my window. Water has pooled in the gutter, a small river has formed, pine needles and winter debris being brushed away down the street. Finally a mother and child walk past. He is in full rain gear, waterproof pants and a bright red rain jacket with his hood up. His black rubber boots g o up to his knees as he jumps in the puddles and walks in the rainwater in the gutter. He has a smile on his small cherub face; his long blond bangs a re wet and cover his eyes. I need the optimism of this child. I try and shake my rainy day doldrums, my pandemic days sadness. I check the seven-day forecast and see that the rain will dominate this week but of course the sun will appear. Soon, I will once again venture outside towards the light.d>
Ingrid Littmann-Tai is a Canadian Freelance Writer focusing on memoir, personal essays, and travel tales. In normal times she is an avid traveler. She is also a part-time dog walker and community volunteer. She loves long walks in the Alberta Rocky Mountains and lazy summer days at the lake. On Twitter at @LittTai.

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