Homeless in Vancouver: I loved the berry wet day we had

Only as the day began to shade into evening did the grey clouds finally give way so that the sun might set in a blue sky. That was good of the clouds, I thought, but they could afford to be generous; they had completely owned the past day and by all accounts they would reign supreme again on the morrow.

Did I write reign? I meant rain because that’s what we got from the clouds all day, not that I’m complaining.

They can rain on my parade all they like, I don’t mind, in fact I love it.

Rain accentuates the positive, including the positively dull

I love riding my bicycle in the rain. I love the slishhh sound the bike tires make as they roll, seemingly frictionless, through the wet streets. I love the way the drops of water cool my over-heated bare legs as I cover the 12 to 20 kilometres of back alleys in my search for returnable beverage containers. I certainly appreciate how there are always fewer other binners doing the same whenever the rain falls hard.

And while I’m riding around, I enjoy witnessing the play of rain on nature in the neighbourhoods.

Rain can heighten the reality of everything it touches. During the day it can do little with the human-made city except accentuate its bland greyness but rain always brings out something special in plants.

Water lays on top of and runs off of concrete and asphalt but—from the smallest blades of grass and blossom petals to the mightiest moss-covered trees—it enfolds living plants in a beautiful embrace of liquid crystal that heightens their colours and makes them seem that much more alive to me.

It helps that I know this water is life-giving and that the plants are drinking it all in.

I drink it  in also—certainly the sight of it but as much as I do love the rain I also love it when the clouds part and the sun comes out to make the water droplets dance with reflected light.

And I’m not a duck, after all. I love that I get the chance to dry out once in a while!