I always loved to play in the rain. In the summer when a shower came unexpectedly in the afternoon, I loved to go out in the yard in my bathing suit and revel in the joy of getting wet. My mother looked on this as a rite of childhood, and laughed to see me romping in the grass or playing in the mud.
It was wonderful to watch the little rivers form in the ditch until I disrupted the flow with my foot; then the water found a new course and surged on to empty into the larger flow and pass down the street. Sometimes the neighborhood kids would join and we would become an army of wet soldiers, damming and breaching the miniature rivers.
One year we had an extremely wet summer, and I played in the rain several times in one of those afternoon pop-up showers that came up quickly leaving the summer sun a sparkling clean world to reflect it's glory. Mama decided to go out with me. She didn't put on a bathing suit, though, she just wore a old dress. She wouldn't have worn anything nice to get wet in. But during my playing, she washed her hair in the run-off from the roof. She thought since we had had so much rain, the roof would surely be clean and the rain water was good for her hair. Playing with my mother in the rain is a cherished memory. I hope she loved it too.