The Joy of Puddles

Leaden skies and drizzling rain! Yesterday the weather was foul: chilly, wet, and miserable, suited only to cocooning on the sofa with a hot cup of tea – ­ but I needed to walk. A day without exercise is a day of feeling stale, so I struggled into my rain jacket and an old pair of lycra leggings, dragged on my thickest socks, and paused.

Why not turn an uncomfortable exercise into something far more entertaining?

Memories of the childhood joy of playing in puddles brought a smile to my face. On with the wellies and out into the rain!

I strode down the road, ignoring the increasing dampness of my legs (and reminding myself to buy wet-weather pants before winter sets in with the usual severity) until I reached the section with unsealed gutters. Deep puddles lined the edges where the road-base had crumbled leaving massive potholes, and I tramped through these with glee, enjoying the ripples and fractured images created by my boots.

People in passing cars must have wondered at the sight of this solitary figure, standing up to her ankles in muddy water and sloshing happily along to the next miniature lake. If they noticed at all as they sped past, intent on their own concerns, perhaps they dismissed me as an eccentric … or did the image evoke fragments of their own youth, when a rainy day was simply another opportunity for play?

Life is richer when we immerse ourselves in the moment; and if we can add a dose of childlike pleasure, mindfulness will also become a source of joy. 

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