Safe and Snug (32/366)

My elementary school bus took us on a long ride every day.   The furor and chaos of school could be hard for me — I was quite shy — and on the bus rides, when I wasn't reading my book, I snuggled down in my seat and nestled my head on the window to be still, and think.  The window shook against my head a little as we coursed through the neighborhoods and over the highways, but I never minded.  I looked out the window at the clouds in the late afternoon sky, at the marshes and water and Bread and Cheese Island.  

I loved it when it rained.  I would watch the drops as they glided down the glass: they never fell straight, but wiggled and changed course.  I liked to find one drop to follow, and guess what its course might be.  It always surprised me.  Sometimes two droplets raced each other to the bottom- one would hit a dusty spot on the window and be slowed; the other would find the quickest route around the drops that hung in place, or join them to its own weight.  The streams of rain were like rivers and marshes in a miniature landscape, and I was an explorer.

Today's rainstorm made me think of those days.  Today, too, I am watching those rivulets and thinking about where I am going, all the while glad I am safe and snug.

Note:  I also found my long-lost umbrella today.  I knew it had to be around, but it's good to have it back, so I need to credit St. Anthony for helping me come across it on a day when it was most needed.