Unexpected Baptism

I meant to write about all sorts of other things, but something extraordinary just happened to me, and I have to write about it before it disappears.

I was biking home from school, thinking about this new, seemingly impossible assignment in Lit, an essay on the one thing in your life that connects people, that makes you feel like a little kid, the most joyful and challenging thing that runs you, and I am so panicked, you would not believe. At the same time, I was admiring the way the almost white sunlight was making the wet concrete gleam and the yellow leaves on the trees and ground glow. I crossed the bridge in the park, slowed down between the two trees, twisted around the corner, and yanked on the brakes. In the middle of the grass sports field, the sprinklers were on, four in all, spraying water every which way in the wettest month of the year, and that's saying something for Vancouver.

I rode my bike through the gate, leaned it against the fence post, setting my bag and sweater with it, out of reach of the sprinklers. I intended to let some of this odd water fall on my face in a light mist, to cool me off from the ride and the anxiousness of this time in my life. First, the mist hit me, then got a bit stronger. Droplets beaded on my shirt, my hair, my eyelashes. I took a step closer, then another, chasing the sprinkler as it turned its slow circle. Eventually I ran under it and let it wash over me, soaking me to the bone. It was like a baptism, like all my sins and worries and fears and angers washing away in the rainbow water. I felt this immense sense of relief and happiness, and I raised my arms above my head and laughed like a little kid, letting it all fall on me and then off again.

It was only a minute until the sprinklers turned off of their own accord, and I realized that I didn't care that the guys in the skate park were watching me, no doubt talking about how high I was (I wasn't. I don't do drugs.) I got back on my bike and came the rest of the way home, water dripping off my face.

My jeans were so wet that they literally fell off as soon as I unzipped them and my hair is still dripping down the back of my neck as I write this, but I still don't care. Everything just seems so much better now.