Thoughts: Different Rains

The rain is different for everyone, at different places and different times. As a young child I loved the rain; it meant we got to stay inside and gym class was cancelled. As a young Magician I once made it rain. Boasting about it the next day to a homeless man, he yelled at me saying: "That rain was your fault?! Do you know how many people got hurt because of you?!" I'd never really thought about how my actions affected others before.

As a younger bum myself I too hated the rain. All the cigarette butts on the street became soggy and unsmokeable. Less people out and about meant less spare change, less spare food, less warm places to pass the time, just less of everything.

Now, as a homeless man, I like the rain again. Though the thunder woke me up and the lightening almost blinded me. Sleeping next to a tree in a lightning storm is considered dangerous, but I don't really worry. As long as my sleeping bags are dry and my camping spot is still mine; the rains OK with me. The air all electric, trash washed down the gutters. Mother Nature reminds us, that she can do as she pleases.

Postscript: After writing and boasting of my love for the rain, I spent an uncomfortable night getting pretty damn wet, falling asleep praying that the rain would stop and the sun would come out before my bedding got soaked.