Here Comes the Rain Again

I don’t have many distinct memories from childhood.  Mostly fading snapshots in a dusty shoebox.

Walking home Friday night I snapped this photo on West 86th Street.  A sensory-rich memory came flooding back.



I clearly recall stepping out of my nursery school on a rainy afternoon and feeling deeply comforted by the swishing, wet sound of car tires on 2nd Avenue.

Yellow cab tail-lights casting blurry, crimson streaks on the slick, dark street. Images and sounds stirring some nostalgic, deep longing in my 4-year-old heart. God, I loved my raincoat, bright red rain-boots and my plastic, see-through, dome umbrellas (I had a few of them) from Woolworth’s. Splashing in puddles, the murkier the better, was the best part. (I even wrote a song about it – listen here to Me & Lizzy 🙂 I remember sticking out my tongue, catching drops of rain and enjoying the slightly metallic taste.  Traffic lights reflecting on the black street, green, yellow to red.


Guess I’m not the only one who loves the rain – so many songs. Here’s one I always liked.  Starts off slow, but listen to Annie Lennox go up the octave.  Dang, woman.  How do you do that?




© 2018 Jenny Bruce