We waited for the school bus in the rain. I do not love the rain, especially when I am wearing my glasses and my umbrella is in my car, which is in the shop, and I have no way of keeping the rain off my glasses. Someone should invent tiny glasses windshield wipers. The kids didn’t care, though, because wet hair is of no concern to them, and a little rain won’t stop their pre-bus playtime.
They were delighted to discover that they could see themselves in a wet driveway — a faint wet reflection, a fuzzed-out mirror. My daughter dubbed it her “water shadow.” She watched it as she ran up and down the driveway. Then she insisted on dragging me onto the driveway with her so I could see my own water shadow. This occupied her until the bus came.
The fun thing about kids’ accidental poetry is that they have no idea they’re being poetic. They say the things they say because it makes sense to them, not because they’re trying to impress anyone. They play with the language in a way that adults have to work harder at, I suspect, because no one has told them yet that it’s silly or nonsensical or not proper grammar. And I think they’ve got the right idea.
And the next time you see your water shadow, I hope you wave and tell it hello.