The Force of Rain

The clouds hang heavy and threaten to drop as parents, laden with strollers and diaper bags and kicking infants, rush back home. They sense nature’s threat and earnestly retreat, conscious that their role, however massive in the fabric of our world, still holds no candle to the force of rain.

The middle schoolers, however, sense no danger. They dance their human social ritual, flocking and separating and jogging to catch up before calling out to one another. The pattern falls into rhythm as the herd continues its journey eastward. 

It is lunchtime and the men and women with their sandwiches in tow search for cover as the first miniscule drops fall. Soon, each hanging pass holds at least one occupant. The lucky ones shield a smiling couple, huddling close and sharing a panino. 

The rain builds its slow walk into a brisk jog. The parents have disappeared from sight, sheltered within the confines of their homes or some cramped cafe. The middle schoolers and their teachers have withdrawn to the vast interiors of the cathedral they came to tour. The store overpasses become less and less helpful, and the couples quickly finish their panini and shield each other as they seek a new dry place. 

Passersby huddle into themselves, believing that if they hunch just a little more, the rain may take pity on them. Girls share umbrellas as the guys walk alongside, their hoods pulled tight around their ears. The older people, usually so ubiquitous, are nowhere to be seen. Their experience has taught them what the new parents are quickly learning. 

The square turns gray and dark. The sound of cheerful chatter and disgruntled business calls move into the restaurants and shops whose doorways glow in the dreary haze. But the drone of the rain and the stomping of running, splashing feet keeps the square far from silent. 

The clouds hang low and the force of rain exerts its power over the function of human life. But we are not discouraged. We still soothe the crying children, dance our social rituals, and share sandwiches. We move inside to the warmth, light, and dry. Soon the rain will pass and the square will once again be full of chatter, phone calls, and kicking infants. But for now, we wait.