From Right Where I Am

It rains in Glasgow. Frequently. Usually it's not really a wet rain... more of a descending dampness. Sometimes though, the grayness opens into a soaking downpour. Then umbrellas open and folks attempt to avoid contact between the respective 'instruments of relative dryness'. In the wind, the concern is centered on keeping the umbrella right side in; a losing battle. As the unreliability of inanimate objects is again demonstrated, sorrowful and annoyed glances appear. Like most days, the rain has emerged victorious.

Maybe this cycle is why I refuse to use an umbrella. I accept the reality of a good soaking in exchange for the chance to be on the winning side of inevitability. I hold my head high as I march past those cowering next to buildings trying to get their inside-out umbrella ready for a second go. I smile at the unfortunate few who left the umbrella at home and now are hunched over, eyes squinting, trying desperately to stay dry.

Or maybe, I can't be bothered to carry an umbrella around when its not raining. Or possibly, I'm cheap and won't spend that 4quid. A few knowledgeable voices would argue that my chronic forgetfulness has impeded the purchase of an essential item. I won't lie, the above all ring true... to a point.

In the end, getting wet isn't that much of an inconvenience, provided of course, that one isn't desperately trying to stay dry. It's relaxing, it's beautiful, and in Glasgow it's inevitable.