We were just a few blocks from the video store where new episodes of Dora & Diego had become available. Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young were working their way through "Woodstock", when I turned to ask Bee if she wanted to go for a walk in the rain. Her head was slumped all the way to the side and she was snoring. I turned around and headed for the Glendale Freeway and the baseball fields of Scholl Canyon.
By the time we made it up there, REM's "Green" was playing and the Bee was still sound asleep. I let the dog out and we pondered the post rain beauty in what until recently had been bone dry hillsides. Low white clouds of mist hovered about the tinderbox hills of brush and the higher mountains were completely hidden. All around the rain was working its magic as creosote, sage and eucalyptus gave thanks with their combined aromas. The ball fields were flooded.
And then Bee was awake. It usually takes her a while to come around, but not this day. Her eyes got big about the puddles, puddles as far as her big eyes could see. "Getta me down, daddy, getta me down!" Translation: "Get me out of this car seat right now you big boob!" She hit the parking lot running with the dog. Puddles over asphalt, and grass, and the red clay brick dust of the baseball diamonds all have a different quality that must be experienced feet first to be fully understood. It's safe to say that Bee knows all of them very well by now. It started raining again, but she was not deterred and ran away from me as fast as she could finally covering all three fields. One can become soaking wet by falling into a swimming pool during an engagement party, say, but it is nothing compared to the wet that you get from walking in the pouring rain with a toddler in love with puddle jumping. Who knew?
Guest Blogger Sparky