TREENA MIELKE/On The Other Side
Sunshine, like quick happy moments, has been fleeting and illusive this summer.
Where the heck is it, anyway?
Rain, rain and more rain seem to dominate conversations and thoughts and, in some tense situations, even the drive home.
Commuting for me is usually not such a bad thing thanks, at least in part, to being able to color in the black and white contours of my going to work and coming home from work with lots of color.
I like it. Being outside, rolling along in my vehicle, listening to tunes, just being one with the universe.
That would be me. A working girl. On the road again. And even if I slept through the alarm, forgot my lunch, am almost out of gas and wonder if I shut my curling iron off, I now have this illusion of being in control.
I drive quickly (did I mention the sleeping in thing?) and confidently. The confidence slips somewhat when a big semi drives up behind me out of nowhere. Not being one to argue with a semi I let him pass.
And away I go, heading off into the sunshine, singing some happy little pick me up song that used to be popular 100 years ago when I was a teenager.
It’s a sunny beautiful morning the announcer announces. I agree.
And, today even Mother Nature and the local farmers seem to agree. Great fields of yellow canola stretch onto forever against a summer blue sky, dotted randomly with pieces of white fluff almost perfect enough to be in one of those cream cheese commercials.
And through it all a tranquil, gently flowing river winds its way to somewhere.
It’s all good.
The drive is home is a repeat of the morning. Beautiful. Tranquil. A time to relax, unwind and think about nothing very much at all.
And then the rain comes.
It starts out slowly, a few spatters on my windshield.
I turn on the wipers so they run intermittently.
And it’s still all good.
I drive a little further, and think about delaying the inevitable ‘what to make for supper,’ question by stopping for a coffee.
And the rain comes down a little harder and I turn the windshield wipers to the next speed.
And then, in less than the swipe of a windshield wiper blade, the rain turns into an angry torrent.
My windshield wipers can’t keep up. The sky has turned menacingly dark and all the beauty that I waxed eloquently about has turned into a big soppy puddle of nothing.
The tranquil, flowing river has gone crazy, overflowing its banks and drowning all the golden loveliness in its wake.
And the sunshine, once again, has vanished.
I pull over and think bad thoughts about the weather, the roads, living in Alberta, the government and the radio station that is now nothing but static.
My cell phone rings.
“Are you free for coffee?” my friend asks.
“Well, of course I am,” I answer in my cheerful all done work kind of voice.
“Just have to wait for this rain to slow down and I’ll be on my way.”
And, eventually the rain, like rain usually does, did stop and the sunshine, just like it usually does came out again.
It’s weird how that goes
Must be summer!