Rainy Summer Days

We finally had a bit of rain yesterday. I realized how much I love summer rain. Unlike the torrential downpours we had in LA during the "colder" months, a summer rain feels like the pause between songs on an album when you know that the silence will soon come to an end, bringing with it something new. The rain is not cold, so that riding your bike outside or going for a run doesn't feel unusual. The day started off cloudy with the darkness getting more ominous as the afternoon wore on. The anticipation is as enjoyable as the rain itself. People gathered in town, wandering in and out of shops that sell stuffed toys in the shape of lobsters, mugs with drawings of lighthouses, and salt water taffy in boxes. My son, our babysitter--who is my summer daughter, really--and I went to town for pizza and fried clam strips. The few raindrops fell from the sky as we left, making our way to the car. The library was full of kids spending the rainy afternoon reading, looking for diversions. Once home, my son and his sitter made a fort in his room with his blankets. In a culture where kids and parents are inundated with things that promises so much, it's amazing how something as simple as a fort made with a blanket is enough to make a young boy so happy.

The rain stopped by early evening, the darkness bringing lightning and the low rumbling of thunder. I've gotten used to how dark it gets here, the streets unmarred by street lights. And how quiet it is during the nights, the silence broken by the crunch of tires on gravel as a car travels down our street. I know many people here still leave their doors unlocked, car keys in the ignition. I'm too much of a city girl to go that far. And I know this island is slowly changing, the talk of occasional robberies cropping up each season.

This morning the rain is no longer falling, although the day is overcast with the occasional peaks of sun through the clouds. My son, who is now dressing himself in the mornings has decided to wear his Darth Vader cape to summer camp. When I asked him why, he said he wanted to surprise his friends with his costume. Such a simple idea is what makes a child happy. A lump formed in my throat as I realized how quickly such simplicity will be complicated by factors that none of us have any control over. And that this time next year, he will be less likely to be satisfied by a fort made with blankets or wearing a store bought cape to summer camp. In the end, it is my job to protect his joy in such things. Whether I'm up to such a monumental task is one I ask every day.