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rain

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

It rained nearly all day today.

Then it really began to rain as evening came down. It occurred to me that The Boy hadn't yet experienced rain, so I bundled him up in grandma's silk/wool blend blanket, and took him out to the balcony. As soon as the door opened, his eyes flew wide at the sound.

He's been expressing his interest in new sounds that same way since he was born. The first time he heard music, for instance -- or rather, hospital musak -- was exactly the same. A look to the side with eyes wide and he'd go silent.

Anyway, the rain was blowing into the balcony a bit, so I edged away from the door 'til I knew he'd felt a few drops, and brought him back inside. He was still looking around wide-eyed at the whole thing.

I wonder if he'll remember. With this journal, I suppose there's a chance I will, at least.