I hold out my hand and feel the soft tapping of raindrops on my palm. They are cool and don’t seem to care where they end up. I take out my umbrella and hold it up so I don’t get wet.
It is fall. The wind starts up, and I am glad I wore my sweatshirt and rain poncho. The rain starts coming down harder now, and my patrol flag flaps madly as if trying to escape my grasp.
There don’t seem to be kids coming. I’m glad. I must look like a giant pumpkin, with my orange patrol poncho fanning out in a wide circle around me.
As the wind tugs on my umbrella harder, I decide to close it up and put it in my backpack. I huddle against the tree as I watch for the rest of the patrols to come so we can head in for school. But I don’t see the familiar bright orange contrast in the bleak gray that hovers around like a blanket.
I sit down this time, grateful for the huge poncho so my pants don’t get wet from the cold ground. I huddle down and wait for the shouts that signal that the other patrols are rounding the corner.
Unfortunately, we still have to patrol in this weather. Only if there is lightning do we head in, but, nope, no thunder and no lightning. Finally I see them, I laugh softly; we must all look like giant pumpkins. I run over to my friends, and we talk as we head in, and in the end I’m wet, I’m cold, but I’m happy to be here in Saint Paul. My home.
Frances Fuller attends Saint Paul Public Schools. She is in seventh grade.
Photo: Rainy view across Kellogg Bridge to Downtown courtesy of Punchup. Browse Punchup’s photostream on Flickr at http://www.flickr.com/photos/punchup/