Do kids play in the rain anymore? I recall when I was a kid and it would rain in the summer, all the neighborhood kids would come outside and run around in the downpour. Not in raincoats or boots—it was too damn hot for that in Texas—but in grubby shorts and T shirts and --Gasp!—barefoot. We lived outside town where the roads were covered in asphalt, not concrete, and when it was hot, the car tires—and your feet if you were walking gingerly to avoid being fried on the blacktop—made indentions in the sun-softened tar. These spots made for great water puddles when it rained. Great for splashing in and riding your bicycle through. If you rode through good and fast, you sprayed up a great arc of water and the other kids had to run, screaming, to get out of the way. Or not. Then, with your wheels wet, you could make crazy figure eights on the pavement for a long, long way. Kid art, which quickly disappeared into the steamy air.
I hadn’t thought about playing in the rain in years, until this morning when I took a walk with my dog in a light shower. The downfall really couldn’t be classified as rain, in the sense of Shirley Temple tapping along to “Singing in the Rain,” but it was wet, and it got me wet and the dog wet. When it began to sprinkle, I started to turn back toward home, but decided “Why not keep going? It’s just a little water.” I’m glad I did. The air was different in the rain, more full of grass smells and dirt smells and dog smells. The birds were livelier than when it is hot and dry, with a chorus of chirps and whistles that kept me company as I strolled along. It was a little steamy, but the unexpected water element gave a new perspective to the same old trail I trace every day.
There weren’t many other people out , and no kids. And why not? The adults should know it wouldn’t hurt them to take a damp stroll, but the kids don’t even know it’s a possibility. As parents we don’t send our kids outside in the rain any more, barefoot, to slog through puddles. We probably wouldn’t even allow it if they asked, fearing they might get hurt, kidnapped, or worse: dirty. It's too bad for them, and for us. Going out in a warm rain never hurt anybody--in fact, I think it’s good for the soul.
A couple of years ago, I watched a young mother playing with her two children outside in the rain, in the puddles. With the proverbial pang of regret, I realized I had never done that with my sons. I ran outside and hugged them all and told her what a great mom she was!
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