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5.25.2012

the blue umbrella.

it is in the spring that new york turns wet.

wet and gray.

it is a different sort of wet than winter. a different sort of gray. it is a hazy weather, peppered by the most glorious and vibrant sun-drenched days.

i didn't understand spring till i moved to new york. didn't love spring until i lived here.

i think there is no more beautiful sound than a steady rain tapping and knocking at the window. i remember a particular night as a young girl being awoken by it. turning over to watch it stream down the diamond-latticed window. how i fought that night to stay awake, just to listen. but sleep won and i fell under.

each spring i watch as new yorkers around me become enraged by the constant showers. the gray and the mess and the inconvenience of it. (inconvenience. what an unimportant word. sometimes i think the word of manhattan is convenience, which is almost entirely why i want nothing to do with the place. no, that's not true, the word of midtown is convenience. i'll happily take the rest of the manhattan). i watch as new yorkers are undone by the rain and i want to say, it happens every spring. every spring we get rain like this. why are you surprised?


we have a short memory for weather here. it helps us survive.

but as others loft curses and epithets skyward i rejoice. i love the rain. i have always loved the rain. i think it's the texan in me. the texan who understands the progression of that odd mix of black and green as it moves in and fills the air. the texan who craves the low-roll of thunder. the texan who thinks few things more beautiful than lightning illuminating a low, wide sky, if only for a moment.

i was explaining this recently. sitting in a small french gastrotque in the west village, my blue umbrella poking from my purse. i was explaining this deep, guttural need for rain when mid-sentence, the man across the table, leaned right in and kissed me. the kind of kiss that is unhurried and easy, having almost nothing and everything to do with the subject at hand. and when he pulled away, my fingers still on his beard, he looked at me, pursed his lips, settled back in his chair and said, i interrupted you, what were you saying?


something about rain, i trailed off.


there are some things i like even more than a thunderstorm.






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19 comments:

Brittany said...

Beautiful Meg. So wonderfully beautiful. I feel like that about rain too.

And you should keep this guy around--he sounds like he gets it.

Cassie said...

so very romantic: rain and a kiss. now how about a kiss in the rain?

Melly said...

I wish I was someone who was as comforted and enamored by the rain as you. I do love it - when I'm curled up in bed with a movie or good book. Otherwise, I'm another of those disgruntled New Yorkers who hate the rain. I just feel like once spring finally rolls around, the rain ruins any chance of finally getting out. Of being in the streets and parks, and doing all those spring things that make New York so special. This rain? I can't wait for it to stop already!

M. Flynn said...

I, too, love the rain. I feel like the person I want to be when it's raining. And a spring thunderstorm? Nothing like it. So well-written, as always. Keep 'em coming!

Mal Mecham said...

I love this. So much. And for the record? I love you too. :) Enjoy your rain, m'dear! You deserve it.

Erin said...

spring thunderstorms are awesome. kisses are bonus.

Jessica said...

Oh my heart. And the chills this story gave.

And the rainless Texas thunder/lightning storms of my younger years that it brought to mind.

Sublime.

forefrontfash said...

yo guuuurl...that sounds PRETTY romantic...

ANH Style said...

I love that Mr. Beard could not wait for you to stop talking and had to kiss you mid-sentence.

Loving the rain must be a Texas thing- I always sleep deeply during storms.

L.A. said...

I share your sentiments. The rain is rather wonderful, even if most of the world fails to see it that way.

Diana said...

Wow. Love this story. I feel the same as you about rain. During my hardest moments in life, I loved the rain because it felt as if the entire world was crying with me. And on the days when I feel so hopeful, I love the rain because it is as if it is cleansing the world. I'm one of those adults who would happily prance around in puddles, laughing like a fool. But that's okay! I'd rather look a fool than be someone who can't relish in the little moments of life.

This man sounds like a keeper! Have fun!

Shawnee said...

beautiful words. spring rain storms are the best.

Jennifer M. said...

I'm definitely a rain girl too. Born and raised in Oregon! Lol. But seriously, I love everything about it - the smell, the sound, the way it makes everything fresh and new and green again. Love it!

Miranda said...

wow, wily, you are such a wonderful writer. Reading your lighting is like that very exciting moment after the rain - when sun begins to peek through, and you know that change and progression and newness and freshness are in the air, but its nothing unfamiliar. Just shown to you in a new light, and you appreciate the beauty of it. Your writing is such a cherished opportunity to appreciate beauty.

Jacob Phelps said...

writings like these epitomize my love for your blog.

Alexa said...

this sounds like hope to me :)

becky said...

This makes me believe in love and romance and dating again. And with a broken heart, nothing is sweeter right now. Oh, you beauty. You absolute beauty.

Ramona said...

woah! that just nourished my romantic soul!!!!

Lori said...

Meg, you have such a beautiful way with words. The way you articulate what some would think of as day to day nothings - come out so poetically one can't help but not only admire but be inspired by you. Thank you for telling your tale of your 20-somethings for the rest of us to share along with you! :)

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