The Difference Between Wet and Dry

Once upon a time - nearly half of my lifetime ago - I began collecting old umbrellas - not to use, just to have. There was something about an umbrella that fascinated me and had since I was a child and spent part of my allowance (ten cents) for a paper umbrella at the five and dime.

The allure was probably in the way they sprung open, or, in the case of the paper ones, their colorful designs.

I never used the umbrellas in my collection but kept one of those compact folding ones in my car in case of rain.

Often the ones I collected were for their handles like this gorgeous amber one. 

This is the only umbrella I still have from my collection. The others went when we had our farm sale.

But this one, this one I kept because of its shape and handle. I harbored thoughts of replacing the fabric, making it useable again. Besides the handle, I loved its shape and size. 

I don't know if the color of this umbrella began as ombré or if it was once vibrant rose overall and faded.

But it must have been fabulous when it was new. And what about the woman who owned it? Didn't she feel marvelous under this parasol? I would have.

One woman wrote a poem about her umbrella....

 Umbrella By Connie Wanek

When I push your button

you fly off the handle,

old skin and bones,

black bat wing.

We're alike, you and I.

Both of us

resemble my mother,

so fierce in her advocacy

on behalf of

the most vulnerable child

who'll catch his death

in this tempest.

Such a headwind!

Sometimes it requires

all my strength

just to end a line.

But when the wind is at

my back, we're likely

to get carried away, and say

something we can never retract,

something saturated from the ribs

down, an old stony

word like ruin. You're what roof

I have, frail thing,

you're my argument

against the whole sky.

You're the fundamental difference

between wet and dry.