The Water Ballet

The NPR correspondent drones on about some Afghani undersecretary and I turn off the car radio. I've heard enough of war and international politics. Besides, it is raining and I want to watch the water ballet.

The rain taps insistently on the windshield, varying its amplitude and frequency as I accelerate or slow down, and as the skies above darken or lighten with rain. The creaking windshield wipers provide a more steady beat.

The wheels hiss as they push aside the water on the road, in search of some asphalt to grab and the pitch of the hiss of the neighboring car wheels shifts as they doppler by.

One car, a prima ballerina, leaps to the front as a chorus of cars dance in tight formation behind and we all head off to our daily work. There will be more broadcasts about wars and undersecretaries, that I can listen to later. For now, I will quietly drive, watching the water ballet.

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