One of my favourite songs in the whole wide world is Bill Wither’s 1977 hit, Lovely Day. This song can transform my mood from sad to glad in a heartbeat. And it’s often a song that I hum when I’m riding my bicycle through the wet and wild city on my way to one of my many weird jobs.

As you can tell from the photograph, we are now fully immersed in the West Coast’s rainy season. And, just as the Inuit infamously have 22 names for snow, Vancouver cyclists have a sophisticated appreciation of the many variations of liquid precipation. There is a wide, wide difference between fog, fine mist, light drizzle, and gentle rain. Of course, on the far end of the scale is the winter downpour that really has to be experienced - water sluices down every inch of you from start to finish. It’s like swimming in all your clothes, except that instead of being able to nap on a sandy beach afterwards, it’s November and freezing cold, and there’s puddles in your shoes.

In order to deal with the rain, I wear layers of admittedly geeky waterproof gear, including (on really bad days) a bright yellow cape that makes me look like a cartoon duck. I also wear more reflective gear than city workers flagging traffic at construction sites. I imagine it’s a little like wearing chain mail armour - awkward, ungainly and a bit goofy, but darned handy when there’s a joust going on.

So, what’s the connection between masochistic behaviour (like willingly flapping through intersections in a downpour) and a great song like Lovely Day? For me, even though it’s painful to peel off dripping socks in a chilly industrial bathroom at work (and even worse to put them back on after 8 hours), there is a certain joy I feel whenever I ride my bike in the rain. There’s a point (usually after the first hill, when I’ve warmed up a bit and the tips of my fingers are no longer threatening to fall off) when cold water is running down my neck and down my ankles, and I start to laugh - because at these moments I feel most alive. It’s the same joy I feel when I hear the opening groove of Lovely Day - all my petty concerns fly out of my mind, and I’m completely immersed in the moment. Despite the rain (or maybe because of it!) it’s just like Bill says: “…the world’s alright with me”.