don't stop the rain

So after a late start to my day, and time spent in Camille's (my long lost sister I found in Spain) room with the shades down, creating the allusion that it was still night; I made my way outside in what I hoped was sunlight and warmth.  To my dismay, like many days in Bilbao, it was raining.  Without my fabulous 5euro umbrella from a gypsy vendor in Algorta or much needed footwear, I began my 35-minute journey feeling unprepared and hence unenthused.  Trudging to the metro station my thoughts we elsewhere, daydreaming with the help of an epic ipod playlist is always a suggested way to pass the time.  After a quick eight minutes of waiting underground, the Plentzia metro pulled up and I was on my way.  

Being welcomed by a surprisingly full metro {considering Sundays in Spain means stay at home and do nothing} I found a seat in a booth accompanying three other women.  These women, like the rest of the passengers on the metro that afternoon, didn't seem phased by the dreary scenery as we glided along the tracks to the rhythm of a steady rainfall.  In the Basque Country it actually rains more days than not, so I imagine years of residency has made for indifference towards the rain amongst its inhabitants.  I on the other hand come from the Northeast de Estados Unidos where it does not rain more than not, though from what I hear as of late, the area had been experiencing some heavy downpours, mother nature does not make a habit of unleashing her watercan wrath over the region.  Needless to say I continued to keep much of my attention directed out the window as I rode to my destination.  And somewhere in between my long hatred of the rain and the Bidezabal metro stop, I realized that I must be real self involved to hate the rain.

I am not sure if it was where I was sitting on the metro or if it was the tranquil presence of my fellow passengers, but during this twenty-minute ride I came to the conclusion that I should be ashamed for my loathing of the rain.  I mean, my goodness, who am I to say or dare judge how Mother Nature or meteorology chooses to function.  I am so minute in a world full of so much more, and most times when it rains, my greatest concern is the well being of my hair, because I like most, am prone to frizz.  My last entry on how much I loved the beauty of spring and summer's flawlessness could not be made possible without the rain to hydrate the plant life that I love so greatly. 


If we didn't have rain who would be the waterers of all plant life? Not a job that I would like to do, and thought right now in a jobless economy, a plantwaterer trade might be perfect for the countless unemployed, but then again it may also be something that is cut back on, thousands could be laid off and the world would have to deal with being a little less green. 


On that note, I like to eat, like so many do of course, and even if that weren’t the case, eating is a must …without the rain, vegetation seems dismal, and really the whole of the food chain would be off, somehow starving more people than the vast number there already is.  So with these new enlightened thoughts filling my head I got off the metro at my stop and during the walk to my apartment I saw the once gloomy surroundings in a new light.  

The sound of the raindrops hitting the pavement made a greater impression than any song on my playlist and the roll of the thunder made for an even greater rhythm.  The gray of the sky was no different than my favorite tee shirt, the water trickling from blades of grass and running down flower pedals was a sight for sore eyes, the hurried shuffle of the people made for a unique people watching session. Truly I took in something beautiful that walk home, and while this entry may seem a little hippie or go green of me, I think that it should be more of a wake up call to realize how much we all in fact need the rain.  And if nothing else, understand that when you can't beat it, join…and the rain isn't going anywhere, at least I surely hope not. 
  


Written During #nowplaying: Please Dont Stop the Rain by James Morrison