Today I went to the park as usual, in spite of the cool temperatures and overcast skies.   After a busy week, I needed some time in my enclave.  In spite of the showers predicted by Weather.com, I spread my electronics and journal out on a picnic table and began to write to the sound of smooth jazz from my bluetooth speaker.  I’d finished my Morning Pages … Julia Cameron’s name for a morning freeform journal … and my letter to God (if that sounds pretentious, I’m sorry … as a writer, I just pray better on paper) and I was partway through my gratitude list when the first fat drops fell, smearing the ink on ADIGW and FriendsI scrambled to the car to protect my electronics, the cold drops like little electric shocks on my bald, hatless head.  Well-prepared walkers were already popping open their umbrellas on the path along the lake, while others were walking faster to get under the trees.

I finished my writing, took my umbrella from the back seat compartment (although I was never a Boy Scout, I do try to Be Prepared) and set out for a walk, mostly to satisfy my Fitbit.  I tucked my camera under my jacket.  Oh, yeah, I put on my bluetooth headphone and a hat.   But, although the rain came and went for the 40 minutes I was walking, I never put up the umbrella.  It is, after all, only rain, as David explained to his startled friends in Pleasantville.  It won’t hurt me.


So often, when a shower comes our way in life, we pop up the umbrella and maybe even batten down the hatches, expecting a storm.  After all, Longfellow tells us,

Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

But sometimes it’s just a shower and a little shower never hurt anyone.

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