It was the mid-day break between massage sessions. My son was being picked up from cub scout camp, which meant I had JUST enough time to walk the dog before he arrived home and we'd need to leave to pick up his sister.
It was hot, and I carefully considered whether or not I'd have time to shower again if I got too sweaty. I decided that the dog and I both needed a walk, and if I needed to shower, then I needed to shower. Somehow, it would work out.
I changed out of my work clothes into "play" clothes, grabbed the leash, and headed out. The sky was blue with a few scattered clouds. We started out on our mile and a half neighborhood walk. Soon I noticed a few darkening clouds and a haze on the horizon.
By the time we were half way around the block, the wind had picked up, and we heard the low rumblings of some distant thunder. Onward, we pressed. I was enjoying the coolness of the breeze, and anticipating the coolness on my skin as the first drops of rain would soon fall.
I love a storm. I love the feeling in the air, the sound the wind makes through the trees. I like the hush that falls over the animal world.
Soon, the first drops of rain appeared. Between the wind and the rain, the previously oppressive heat was now bearable. I stretched my arms out wide and hung my head back to feel the rain on my face. One hand held the leash while the other signed "wind", "rain" "loud" (thunder), "thank you" (God). I all but danced.
Needless to say, my concerns about being "sweaty" were unwarranted. If I needed to worry about something, I should have chosen "being soaked to the skin", "being pelted by hail", or "flooding the interior of the car through open windows".
But, no worries.... safely at home, I pulled a chair up onto the porch and sat - watching and listening - as the storm passed through.
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