Friday, January 13, 2012

Letter number two: Memories of sun and rain

Dear Ballpark Day,
That day the rain came out of no where. It poured out of the previously sunny sky like someone had turned a giant water tap as far as it would go. It beat down on the slanted roof of the concession stand. It showered across the baseball fields and everyone seemed to forget why we'd been there in the first place. Some people ran under the cover of the small over hangs, others ran the long distance back to their cars. All games were called off due to the surprise rain storm. The usual drab looking ball park had been transformed into a sort of watery wonderland in mere minutes. 
Water built up in large puddles on the concrete. Children laughed wildly, we were among them. We were soaked through and through, but we ran, happy and care free through the puddles. Mom wanted to leave right then, but we stalled for time. Racing around the ballpark without a single care in the world. 
Our hair was drenched. I didn't stop running even to wring mine out. The dust from the baseball fields had turned  into thick reddish mud. The players slipped and slid in it, trying to get as dirty as they possibly could. 
The sun shone through the thick rain clouds in places, coloring the entire scene in a yellowish-brown hue. 
And as the rain began to subside, gone as quickly as it had come, we stood at the corner of an over hang. Letting the water drip down on us. The two of us looked as if we had jumped into the river with all of our clothes on. When the rain had gone and it was time to go, we clambered into the backseat and sat in our soaked clothes.
If there were a jar filled with my favorite days, that would be one of them.

                             I'll always remember, 

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