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Pure bliss: A rainy night drive in Federal Way | Nandell Palmer
Water, water everywhere! It would appear as though spring is on a mad dash, playing catch-up for the heavy rains we had escaped here this past winter.
On a recent Tuesday evening, my wife and I met with a gentleman in Starbucks at The Commons mall for an hourlong tête-à-tête. Throughout the day, it hailed. Sun shone briefly, then it was back to rain.
Then more hail and rain. It was a day that could get the worst out of people, but we decided to make something positive from that interminable rain.
I asked my wife out for a date, and she grandly obliged. I must tell you, we had one of the best times of our lives. We fetched some dinner, an informal picnic of sorts, and headed west to Dash Point.
We eased back our seats, and were “lullabied” by the rhythmic beats of raindrops falling down on the roof of the car. The mood was ideal for anyone to create his own music. So with nature’s help, we indulged.
As the evening sky furled up its heavy gray canvas, it gave us one last chance to paint on it with our varying colors.
Like an uninvited guest yearning to feel welcomed, a sprawling tree soon shared its fecundity, heavy with branches. It volunteered itself as a wonderful backdrop to the kaleidoscope of blue, teal, orange and lavender we painted with abandon.
The waves ebbed and flowed, seemingly unmoved by the downpour. The shimmering lights danced carefree atop of it. Darkness later framed the eventide, and we decided to head east, close to World Vision.
We yearned for more rain, but it had ceased to come. A reasonable substitute? To be entertained by night creatures: Moths, fireflies, bats and anything in between.
We had nothing better to do but to nibble away on small morsels. We recalled love stories, and sang rain songs.
The insatiable appetite for more rain was expanding, and so we headed north on Military Road chasing after raindrops.
Before long, we were down by Redondo Beach. With its thousands of lights dotting the hillside, we were feted to a palpable silence. Again, we relished this solitude — just for two.
Our hearts wanted to soar onto the golden glow from which love, kindness, civility and gratitude are created. We cracked the windows, and our nostrils were invaded by the fresh draft of spring.
It is said that into every life some rain must fall. And depending on the person, rain can be viewed as either a blessing or a curse. Nevertheless, it is up to everybody to determine which way he will embrace it.
Notwithstanding the discomfort rain brings at times, never will I see it as my foe. Rain is a precursor to growth. It is invigorating, soothing and energizing. It sets the cycle of growth in motion.
While I may yearn for yearlong sunny days, rain prepares me for the positive things to come. Eventually, its drops will transform our brown hillsides into the verdant landscape for which the area is known.
It will bring abundance to fertile spots like the Federal Way Community Garden. It will wash away impurities and freshen our air.
We all can learn a powerful lesson from the relation between rain and plants: Many times the flowers will accept even the storms because they know that they will be watered. And if the flowers are watered, they will grow and blossom into haunting beauties.
I see my life following in that trajectory: The downpour I encounter today is paving the way for growth in myriad areas of my life tomorrow.
I am being pruned and watered now, but if I endure, my growth and blossoming will be realized before long.
Heading south to home sweet home, we must say that we had a blast. All from the comfort of our car. We had no concierge to handle our itinerary. No bellhop to put away our luggage.
My only regret with rain in the Pacific Northwest, however, is that I cannot hear it on the roof. Oh, how I would love to hear raindrops falling over my head again in perpetuity!