This evening I was out in the driveway hand-washing my car. The water rushing over my feet felt wonderful. I sprayed my bare ankles, shins, knees; I was heading all the way to my head with that hose when the Bosnian neighbor man came out and looked at me curiously. I lowered the hose and my head and continued scrubbing the car. I was within a split second of dousing myself.
Funny, isn't it how we tame those impulses as we age? I think if we were having a downpour, I'd be out dancing in the rain about now. What is it about water that makes me feel like I am returning to primitive roots? That feeling overtakes me every time I am at the seashore.
I have to go wring out my Capris now.