It would have been easy to cast this day aside. The weather was hardly cooperating and my students took the “it’s Monday” thing to a whole new level. When one colleague asked me about that rhyme involving April showers and May flowers, I am not so sure he appreciated my shrug.
Most people glanced out windows, hoping for a ray of sunshine or sign that it was letting up, only to be disappointed and scowling as they walked away begrudgingly reaching for their umbrellas. Candidates for Today’s Perfect Moment seem few and far between. Nevertheless, I have one.
Despite the wet walks to and from public transportation, once on it, I was able to wrap myself in a cocoon of warm indifference. The tapping of the rain on the bus surface and roadway all but drowned out the most persistent of noisy cars. The world outside the bus, shrouded by the condensation on the windows, was rendered as someplace else. It wasn’t the road I traveled on every day. It wasn’t the daily grind of a commute to work or home. On this day, I was traveling to new lands. This day was different. This day was grey and damp, but it also held some perfection.