There was a lunar eclipse and I really wanted to see it. All afternoon I was wondering where to get the best possible view in town. When 9 o’clock came around I rolled a couple of joints and rode up to Bradlaugh Fields, a huge open space only a couple of minutes from my attic room.
The sky was grey and overcast – it was likely I wouldn’t see anything but I decided to give it a shot anyway. Whilst unlocking my bike it started raining, luckily I had my coat on. By the time I reached the fields it was raining heavily and I was drenched. A familiar musty smell emanated from all around.
Over the hills and hollows I rode and way, way up to the top of the hill, lifting my bike over a fence to access the best viewing spot nearby. Looking down across the town I could only make out the church spire and the cricket ground lights. The wet greenery shone between us like never before. I pulled out a joint and lit up, blowing out smoke into the rain. I gazed up at the sky, trying in vain to see something, anything; the moon, the sun, anything but grey clouds and heavy rain drops. It was useless. I’d not see the lunar eclipse this time.
I gave up looking for the moon but tried to find the exact spot where you could see the most of the town. Passing a gap in a hedgerow I saw an adult fox, only about eight feet away. It stopped to look at me for half a second and kept on walking away, undaunted and defiant, into the darkness. Now I was pleased I came out in the rain.
For twenty minutes, as it got dark, I stood alone in the top field. Smoking and soaking wet I embraced the moment and laughed with and at myself. It’s funny how you can find peace and quiet in the oddest situations sometimes. I didn’t care I was soaked through, and I didn’t care that I had yet to ride home. Listening to the rain on my coat I noticed how silent the rest of the world seemed. Even here, locked in by housing estates, there was no sound to be heard, but the tapping of the rain.
Looking down at the grass I saw how rich a green it was when wet. It was slimy and slippy. Also, it was short. Who was cutting this grass? Anyone? It was a perfect question to contemplate in the wet. The mood I was in now was elated and overjoyed. It was a soaking of biblical proportions. It felt as if all the sin and anguish and anxiety were being washed away with every raindrop that hit me. I walked my bike home in the rain.
