Rain, Rain Go Away:

It surprises me that I am still writing about my morning walks in Piedmont Park. However, each time I think I’m finished something else happens that either catches my attention or just seems strange. For me, that is like waving a red flag. I do think, however, that I am coming to the end of the Park essays.

Rain has hampered us this week. It rained for the last four mornings so I did the right thing; I stayed in bed and got an extra hour sleep. I know that is not what I needed but it was what I wanted.

There is something wonderfully slothful about lying in bed when you think that you should be outside paddling around the track. After a few days the guilt sets in and guilt alone lifts you up and into your tennis shoes. Even though you can hear it raining you can no longer make excuses. You think, its only water you won’t shrink. There is no reason, be brave, get out there and walk. Then like the heroes of old you go out to face the enemy, the enemy known as the hill of doom.

I wish all that I just said was true, but the real truth is that it wasn’t raining this morning so guilt had a heavy bat to beat me out of the bed and out the door. I thought that after four days off it was about time to get my butt out there.

Out I go and it is, in fact, misting a bit. Not bad, unless you wear glasses, in which case you spend a lot of your time wiping the lens so you won’t stumble and fall. Remember the part about being brave? This is the first test. But, as I’m out of the house it seems a waste to go back in. I’m too awake to go back to sleep and I don’t want to spend the extra time browsing. If I do that then what will I have to do at work? I do the heroic thing and keep walking.

Here comes the strange part. No one was out this morning. The park, which by the time I get there usually has a pretty good crowd of walkers, dog walkers and runners, is almost empty. It is really spooky. There is no one around. In the entire park I think I only ran across about five other people. Behind the rain clouds it is coming on morning, but it is still dark. The rain is lightly misting and there you are alone walking past bushes where serial murderers may be hiding. Boy, if that don’t make you pick up the pace nothing will.

It is somehow comforting to find out that others, even those in killer shape, use the rain as an excuse to stay warm, snug and dry.

Here comes the interesting part. The one person out this morning, and still planted between the men and women’s bathrooms, was our duty transvestite. Rain and all, he/she was looking good. There was a nice red blouse over a pair of whiter than white hot pants, with a terrific looking wig that stylishly completed the morning ensemble. Today’s wig was blond and cut short in the style of early Lisa Minnelli.

In the misting grey of a dark morning the color really jumped into life, blotting out the drizzle in a blink of the eye. That one moment of color splashed against the cold grey seemed to make the world click into focus. The strangest things can make a day seem totally copasetic.