Waking up Naked in the Rain
There’s a rain around here. I had heard it last night outside before bed. It sounded a little louder this morning, loud enough to wake me. There was only a slight chance for it in the forecast. It is a surprise.
Looking out the window, the colored concrete and granite rocks are wet just outside the door. “Did I get that window up, that one with the slit that lets the heat out when the truck sits in the sun?” I step out. As I make my way to the driveway to where my truck is parked, there are a few drops and lovely fresh air. I pass through the porch area where everything is dry. There is a light curtain of water coming off of the roof. I step through. It slaps my shoulders and there are a couple of wet spots now in my scalp. I go on.
I have made my way into the drive. “Yep, windows are okay.” It feels good to be naked and barefoot, waking up by this warm summer drizzle.” This is as good as stretching in bed, just being aware and cozy, peeling each layer of cover away as the feel of it all flows through, but this is certainly quicker.
“What’s that?!” Down the drive a couple of hundred feet, next door, I hear it. “Is that a car coming up the drive?” What’s going on at Robyn’s house?” “Could that be rain over there?” “It is rain!” I’m standing in the driveway. The sandy loam is wet and gritty on my barefeet, like a beach. “No rain here, plenty at the end of the driveway, plenty next door! “
“Is it coming my way, or just making a visit down there? Perhaps I’ll”…I hear it moving. It is loud. It is a hard rain falling. It is creating a rustle in the mesquite trees, as the water drops through the weave of branches and small leaves, with a welcomed violence. There is sound of dancing as large dollops break up, split up, dropping to the next position and then the next, downward all in mass. There is a pounding on the sand and a sudden realization that the commotion next door is big heavy drops.
“Could it be a hail?” The first few clues randomly address my vulnerable flesh. It begins to pelt me, but these are soft and warm as they mash, now frequently, on my skin, skin that knows subtle differences. Skin knows the temperature of the air, how fast the breeze carries between the drops, how many drops per square foot, which way does this come from and how quickly. How long will it stay? Does this stuff get cold?
A rain blanket drapes over me, engulfing me with sound, activity. The mind wants to run. Should I tense up, or retreat from the coming shock. It remembers the shocking chill of hard rains past, the body tenses and turns toward shelter. In a moment, this body knows and out of someplace very quiet it adjusts and puts the mind at ease. Realization appears quickly and a calm and sensual exploration begins, this is so very nice. What a treat, naked in a warm summer’s rain.
By the time that I have reached my front door the little storm has passed. I’m awake, aware, sleep is done.
The Free Range Naturist 