As my regular readers know (all right, all right, you can laugh, but I’m sure that group of people must be just about nudging double figures by now) two things that hold considerable fascination for me are photography and rain. Of these, the second one actually came first. As a kid I used to love, after school on a wet day, to sit out on the small back porch at home, often with a book and a snack (to keep me going till tea-time) watching the rain. Ever since then I’ve found watching rain curiously therapeutic – not that I’m unsympathetic towards all of you who are often struggling to get washing dry, mind – and I never mind walking in the rain as long as it isn’t really heavy. That smell of wet grass, the pattern of raindrops on the surface of puddles or open water, or the sound they make as they hit parched ground, all create an ambience I love. Even in urban surroundings, I’m intrigued by the reflections in the tarmac surfaces and the bubbling sounds from the gutters. It’s just as well I have a camera with a good level of weather resistance. (Thank you, Pentax designers.)
But there’s just one snag. (This is where the prompt comes in.)
Rain can make you very wet. And cold. So the piece of clothing that endears itself to me most is my well-worn padded storm coat. I like it even more than the ‘replacement’ I bought, thinking it wouldn’t last much longer – it now seems determined to outwit this (rare) proactive move on my part. (And by the way, if I decide something’s worn out, nobody is likely to argue.)
So, here it is. I’m just thinking… I bought it when? It’s how old? Let’s just say that I’ve had it quite a while… and it has lots of pockets for holding, well, things.
I’d better go. Did anyone notice which pocket I put my keys in?
This post was prompted by the theme ‘An item of clothing…’ at the Writing Workshop
NOW LOOK HERE!