Finding Momentum

I. When the restlessness again enters my legs

We dare do what mere men dare not! We linger in the rain when mothers worldwide would frown, wagging their fingers at us children lollydallying in the puddles, stomping on muddy daisies, the rain soaking our pores. We run exclusively when it's wet, through throngs of umbrellaed passerbys who cluck their tongues and shake their heads. And when it grows dark, we swim and splash through rivers running in the streets, if only because we can, because we could, because we can. The restlessness enters my legs when the sky begins to pour. We must rebel, we must run.

II. On the sensation of rain

You can't do anything to rain. It can only mess you up; it can only soak you. Have you ever heard the trees fight the rain? They try to hold the drops in their leaves; at night you can hear the cacophony of each drop. The torrents will never cease, but the trees hold out their arms and try to drink the sky. It is the same with us (we can bat at one drop but ten more take its place). We can do nothing but steel our gaze, brace our bodies and drink the sky.

(There is a valiant eucalyptus grove the length of Dwinelle.)

III. On fighting

Keep your heart rate up. Left foot, right foot, left. When you reach intersections, jog in place. Blink often.

IV. The sender

10 As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

11 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

V. Its effects

I return home, feeling unnaturally lucid and completely alive.

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