Wednesday, June 12, 2013

WET AND NAKED



The other day the heavy rain beating on my bedroom window woke me early. One of my first thoughts was, Rats. My newspaper will get soaked.

Because I sleep in the nude, I grabbed a discarded t-shirt and a pair of silky running shorts from the laundry basket and, slipping them on, ventured out into the deluge. The rain was warm on my bare arms and legs and I took a moment to splash around barefoot in the rivulets running down my sloping driveway. Then I scooped up my newspaper and brought it back to the house, divested it of its sopping-wet plastic wrap and spread the pages out to dry.

But something in my brain niggled. My peripheral vision had picked out some activity on the porch across the street as I’d traipsed around, and I opened the front door to check it out.

Sure enough, my 85-year-old neighbor, who suffered from Parkinson’s, was standing there in a raincoat, looking timid and small. Her son had just positioned the folding wheelchair at the bottom of the five porch steps and was going back up, a dripping umbrella over his head, to bring her to his SUV which was parked at the curb. A doctor’s appointment, I surmised, for why else would he bring her out in such inclement weather.

Without further thought I splashed across the street, still barefoot, t-shirt and shorts already plastered to my body, and offered to hold the umbrella over Flora’s head while Bob helped her down the steps and into the wheelchair. He steered her to the passenger door then helped her inside, she protesting all the while that I was getting wet, and me assuring her that it was okay, the rain was warm.

Amid his thanks I handed Bob the soggy umbrella and stepped off the curb and into the gutter, where the running water splattered up to my ankles. It felt good. I splashed through the puddles in the street and literally danced up my driveway, arms outstretched (think Julie Andrews atop the mountain in The Sound of Music), face uplifted to the sky, mouth open to catch the raindrops.

It occurred to me then and there that I would probably have a wonderful time at a nudist camp, prancing around naked in the sun or surf or sand or rain. I imagined the raindrops slowly drizzling their way like sensual fingers down my exposed skin, touching every naked mound and crevice, caressing, stroking. I imagined the warmth of its embrace in, say, a pond or a pool or even the ocean.

And it occurred to me that I like being wet and naked.

How about you? Have you ever danced naked in the rain?

~~ Cris Anson

12 comments:

  1. I love the rain. When I was younger we used to pretend that the rain was our shower and would even pull out the shampoo and take a real shower! The rain is so wonderful, as is the warm sun on your body.

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    1. I love the shampoo story, Melissa! Thanks for sharing.

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  2. What a great post. I've never danced naked in the rain, but you make me what to at least once. ;)

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  3. Stellar post, Cris!

    It made me smile. Don't know whether my smile was from your selflessness or your joy of being *wet and naked.* In either case, I thank you. :)

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    1. And thank YOU for commenting, Lynda. It feels good to make someone smile.

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  4. Cris, your post made me smile. Life is about about enjoying simple pleasures. I like sloshing through the rain, but I'm always wearing clothes. Maybe I need to change things up :)

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    1. Yes, please do change up, Shelley. We'll both dance in the rain, clad or not.

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  5. I love dancing in the rain. I have never done it naked though...but will have to put it on my list of things to try. My kids and I play/dance in the rain whenever possible.

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  6. I love that you play in the rain, Ashley!

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  7. I have never danced naked in the rain...btw, not sure anyone would really want to see my dance...naked, raining, or otherwise...

    Cheers,
    Alan.

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