Summer Rain

The aftermath

Walking out from work, it was warm, but not hot.  Overcast, but not dark.  The remains of an earlier shower dotted the roof of the car, and a hint of moisture filled the air.  Not enough to be muggy.  Seemed like it would hold, and the Soap Box Derby is in town, so I thought I'd drive around and see if I could see any kids prepping for the big race.

The derby is held on the grounds of the Akron Fulton Airport.  A tiny regional airport, its most famous aircraft use to be the GoodYear Blimp.  The blimp hangar is adjacent to the airport, and I'm working in a building next to the hangar.  The blimp isn't there anymore, another sign of the changing times in Akron, OH.  Lockheed owns most of the property now. 

Anyway, the derby is held in the same large quadrangle that bounds Lockheed, Meggitt, and the airport.  I'm driving around, and as I approach the light to make a right, the rains starts coming down.  Light, but not a mist - this is real rain.  And as I turn the corner to start down the road opposite the Derby Downs, the pace of the rains picks up with the car.  By the time I can see across the field (yes - it's a field, not yards of concrete), I've reached the end of the airport buildings.  There are a couple of planes - they look like toys, maybe large models to be flown by some hobbiest.  They are real planes of course, but now what I've some to think of after flying a million and a half miles.

The rain is coming down steadily, and I decide not to get out of the car to take a picture.  I'll try again tomorrow, and maybe I will get to see the racers in the field.  Having made an orbit of three quarters of the field, I make another right and start up the hill behind where the racers will be.  There are cones in the lanes and tents sprout from the ground, temporary abodes for the many people who will work behind the scenes for the benefit of the kids.  I'm driving up behind the Rubber Bowl and the Derby Downs, and now the road starts to descend.  One final right and I'm running along the Lockheed plant.

Here you wouldn't know that the All-American Soap Box Derby is taking place.  The activity is hidden behind the trees and rolling hill.  And the rain starts to beat down harder.  You can smell the rain - you can always smell the warm earth and water.  It permeates the air, but today there isn't the electric tinge that so often accompanies the summer downpour.  Instead, as I motor down the road, the clouds begin to part, making way for blue skies.  The rain continues to pelt the windshield, and is joined by road spray.  The pace quickens, and  more sky is revealed.  The clouds are painted with an aura where the sky breaks through, an aura which quickly becomes a corona.  Almost like an eclipse, except the darkness surrounds the donut hole. 

And then it comes - shattering the calm of the clouds and bringing them alive.  Shafts of light stream like brushstrokes of gold across the clouds, from the hole to the ground.  No rainbow here, just penetrating amber as solid a a sword, cutting apart the shroud that keeps it hidden.  The clouds part way, but still no sun.  It hides itself away as the rain passes through driving pellets to become a gentle shower.  I turn up I-77 to go to FairLawn, where dinner and sleep await my arrival.  I can see the sun moving along behind the clouds, peeking out here, poking out there, but still not in it's fullness.  I find myself wishing I could just pull over on the road, but this is an expressway.  I;m in the middle of a cloverleaf type exit, and surely I can't just stop.  Only five more miles and I'll be done.

Suddenly, the landscape is bathed in a swath of light.  The sun has broken out and blazes across the heavens.  Immediately I drop the visor to prevent sun blindness, and the road begins its correction from West to North.  As the fiery orb slides around to the side, I can see again.  The rain has eased, but the spray from the road keeps the wipers on full.  A couple more miles and I'll be at my destination - will the sky hold its paintings for me to capture?  I can't say.

Finally, my exit appears, and I move over.  The smell of the rain no longer fills my nostrils, and the falling drops have diminished to the point that I only need to clear the windshield occasionally.  As  the race to capture the beauty of the skies ensues, I've left the expressway and now approach the light for dinner.  A left turn onto the winding road to food, I pull into the bank parking lot and get out.  No rain now, and the Sun has hidden herself away again. but beauty remains.  I share it here with you, a memory, a shadow, of what once was.