My Choice

There were hints of sunlight yesterday. Not many, but enough to make you feel that there was a reasonably good chance of a pleasant day. Then the sky became gradually darker, and then the wind blew stronger, and then came the thunder and a sharp bolt of lightening. Now what to do? I was on my way to get the car, located on the far side of the car park, when the symptoms of storm became serious.

The prelude to the several-act drama was light rain. It was gentle at first, the trick rain plays when it lures you out into the unprotected open and then dumps on you. No umbrella, so I’ll wait. It won’t last long. The wind picked up, the sky darkened, then a bolt and a boom and the first few ice droplets clicked off the glass door. A few more people stood at the exit, pondering the predicament. Do I run now while it’s hailing a little bit? Do I wait for a break in the action? Maybe I give up and take a chair in the lobby. What to do is sometimes influenced by the urgency of the moment.

Long story made short: within a ten-minute sliver of my life, dark asphalt pavement became a glistening glory of white wonder released by the sky. My choice: do I curse under my breath about the inconvenience of this unexpected moment? Why now! Or, do I hear the rhythm of the ice crystals tapping on the door, watch the transformation, feel the temperature drop slowly, think of that Winter painting I admire so much, remember the family fun we used to have in the deep snow, gasp at the canvas changing before my eyes as the artist splashes Titanium White recklessly?

Unexpected life happened unexpectedly. How to respond? Gratitude or grumbling? Squinted eyes of impatience or wide eyes of wonder? Which “me” emerges: the curmudgeon or the kid? My choice.