I rode my bike home from work today. It had rained fiercely earlier in the afternoon, and it was still lightly drizzling. I took a longer route than usual, for two reasons. The first was to avoid a steep hill right in front of my apartment complex. The second was because I like to explore my town. The air was full of that wonderfully warm smell of rain. I managed to head the wrong way down a small alley next to a lumber yard, where a slightly-sweet scent of pressed cedar greeted me. I rounded the corner, and the rainy smell took on a new texture. It was still the same smell, but different some how – like a key change in a gentle song about summer in Carrboro.
I meandered along past an elementary school and crossed hillsborough street, then shifted into third gear and sped up. I like to go fast. As I flew along west poplar avenue, I heard a popping noise, followed immediately by a deafening explosion. My first thought was that someone had set off some kind of bomb, but then I recalled having heard that sort of popping noise before – it was the sound of a static discharge. Lightning had struck somewhere incredibly close to me. Cool! I’ve always wondered what it would be like to get hit by lightning. I bet it would hurt.
I woke up this morning not feeling so great. I was frustrated by my research and how it was going, lonely on account of being in a new place and not having established many friendships, and just generally yucky. After riding my bike home from work, I felt wonderfully happy. My life has been full of such joyous moments; sometimes they’re a little bit farther apart than I’d care for, but they’re there. They come in the most unusual of forms, sometimes really unexpected, but they really make it all worthwhile.