Tip toes.

We finally got the rain showers that I have been hoping for ever since I moved into an apartment with a 4th floor bay window. All I have wanted to do is sit with some tea and watch it all fall down. Sadly though, or so I thought, the rain fell down while I was still at my friend's apartment (though, I must say that her bay window is quite cozy, too). For a split second I wanted to call a car to drive what would be a ten minute walk. Then I realized the ridiculousness of that thought and hiked up my jeans, borrowed some flip flops and headed out the door to frolic home. However. There is a difference between a frolicking rain and a tip-toeing rain that I just learned today. The nightime downpour had created these miniature rivers that overflowed onto corners and gutters that were surprisingly beautiful with the first of fall's leaves stuck between the grates. As I walked down the brownstone lined streets, the lamps cast a glow that made me feel like I was intruding on a poetic moment...but had somehow been granted permission. Permission to smell the stones of the church buildings wet with the rain and their red doors being pounded on by the drops perhaps in incessant, urgent prayer. The delicate piano music of the Credits (yes, Pride and Prejudice soundtrack--is there really any other one worthy?) slowed my pace to the point where the music and the rain created this certain silence that wasn't quiet. The intermittent thunder was welcomed and contradictorily beautiful and beckoning. So now I'm sitting at my own bay window, sad that I should probably drift off to sleep soon. I don't really want to miss out on the storm.