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One of the wonders of the memories which flow beneath the surface of our minds…nonstop…is that we never know what random act will bring them to the top.

It happens all of a sudden…out of the blue…and it’s not easy to explain…like this morning halfway through my walk when it began to rain.

It was more like a drizzle…a sprinkle…it certainly was raining…yet…it was the kind of rain you can walk in without ever getting wet.

It was a cloudless and clear morning…where this rain came from…I don’t know….but immediately amidst this drizzle memories began to flow.

These memories did not burst from the water…frantic…unrestrained…no, they floated to the surface softly…gently…kind of like the rain.

I remember playing in the rain as children…with nothing covering our feet…meticulously creating mud pies…we were never going to eat.

I remember there was nothing quite as thrilling (although our parents were not as entertained) as they watched us from the dryness of the house…ride bikes…with no hands…in the rain.

I remember the wonderful feeling of mud spattering on my back…as my back became a blotter when we road our bikes through the ditches as they filled up with muddy water.

I remember when our children were children, unlike our parents, who would graciously abstain…We would take off our shoes and socks…and join them in the rain.

The drizzle stopped and I continued walking…and the memories that had emerged….lingered with me a little longer before they faded and submerged.

It was a wonderful feeling…one I hope I never will forget…
The day the rain allowed me to dip into the waters of my memory…
without ever getting wet.

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