If I had to choose my least favourite month, I would easily say November.  I enjoy warm weather and hot weather and that month is too far away from the next spring and summer also the warm sunny days of fall disappear with November when the Vancouver rain socks you in and the days are dark and short.  I have always thought the song Cold November Rain was appropriate for Vancouver. September is one of my favourite months.  The weather is warm and the days are still long but the craziness of summer has passed and life comes a bit more slowly.  Summer isn’t a tucked away memory; it is right there top of mind.  October is also beautiful with the sun continuing to shine nearly every day.  Each year I expect the weather to turn in October and each year I’m pleased with how long the rain holds off. 

Today dawned grey and wet.  I glanced at the calendar.  I have one week of October left but you wouldn’t know it for looking outside.   My kids and I had plans to hit the family drop-in centre up the road, I figured with the rain I’d better drive.  As we were getting ready to head out I glanced out the window again.  It was coming down in sheets, hitting the sidewalk out front of our house and bouncing back up again.  I can’t imagine it raining any harder than it was.  So, I’m not sure why it struck me to walk to the drop-in but that’s what I decided.  I started bundling up the kids in rain gear and a waterproof stroller cover.  I grabbed my rubber boots and slicker and we set off. 

As we set off down the street I held my son’s little two-year-old hand tightly in mine.  As we approached a particularly enticing puddle I felt him pull against my hand.  I grabbed a hold a little tighter.  I have never let him walk unaided out in the world of cars and busy streets.  Although we have tried many times to teach him the urgency of “Freeze,” he has yet to completely grasp the concept.  As he struggled against my hand, the puddle calling to him, I decided it was time to let go.  I let his tiny hand slide from mine and he went straight for the puddle, jumping and splashing like a, well, a kid set free.  With one eye on him and the other on traffic along the road I surveyed his level of risk as only a mother can.  Minimal, I decided.  I breathed a bit and let him keep on running ahead of me.  He bent over and picked up a big huge Maple leaf, bigger than his head.  He squealed and searched for another.  His enthusiasm was infectious.  I was enjoying this wet, sopping walk far more than any car ride I can imagine.

Suddenly, almost as if my son had just realized his freedom, he glanced back at me and smiled a perfect wet smile.  Then he said “C’mon Mommy,” and reached his little hand up to me.  I slipped my hand back in his and decided that a wet and soggy November could come any time it wanted to.

Leave a Reply