“A Strolin’ in the Rain” – Dorothy’s Place
It was cold. It was windy. There was light rain. It was a beautiful morning. I went a walkin’ in the rain. More accurately, it would be said that I went a strollin’ in the rain.
The setting was my usual – the Arboretum. It was ever so peaceful. Not many human souls had ventured into nature on such a day. Oh what they missed.
I stood alone in front of the waterfall. Its roar, heard in my left ear, matched the aggravating roar that is ever constant in my right. I pondered how that ear could hear no sound from without, yet create its own constant din from within. Before I came up with a good answer, the flow of my nose began to match the flow of the waterfall. I had myself a good blow, took my right-ear-din and continued my stroll.
I stood beneath a tall Camphor tree. The rain had stopped, but the wind blew the puddled drops from their beds in the leaves. I folded my spotted glasses into the pocket of my bulky berber jacket.
Two young squirrels playfully chased each other up and down, ’round and ’round the fat trunk of the tree. They were soon joined by a third. It was difficult to tell who was chasing whom. I don’t think they cared.
Suddenly, one of the squirrels stopped and assumed that paw-behind-the-ear stance I know so well from my cats. He had to scratch a flea. Then, back to his romp. I left them to their play. I continued my stroll.
A flurry of flight and unusual song in a cluster of Fan Palms caught the attention of my good ear and my good eye. A small bevy of unfamiliar birds were flitting about, in and out of the branches. There seemed to be no special reason for all the activity. They were just playing in lighthearted abandonment.
I might have taken them for Mocking Birds, except for the black around their beaks and the sharply pointed crest on their heads that later helped my friend Nelson to instantly identify them as Red-whiskered Bulbuls. I observed until my neck developed a crick. I left them to their play. I continued my stroll.
I stopped many times on my stroll, sometimes just to blow my nose, sometimes to observe nature in action, and finally for raising my umbrella once again. I left that world to its play. I continued strollin’ in the rain to the Peacock Café and a waiting cup of hot tea.