I’d have thought the distant thunder rumbles would put her off. But it was distant. And she is a dog!
Anyway, I thought I could cleverly pace my walk to take me through the tree tunnel (see walk for all seasons) in case I needed cover. That didn’t work. The minute I left their shelter and was out in the open I know I was going to be caught out.
I heard it coming. It marched with the sound of a trillion hefty raindrops across the open ground. An armoury of thunder and lightning rattled overhead and a roar of beating water advanced across the crops.
As dramatic and unnerving as an advancing army the wall of rain surged closer. Then it hit me. I couldn’t see through it, beyond it or round it, this wall of steely grey beating upon me with weapons of wet.
There was nothing we could do except stride on and refuse to be defeated. I just wished I could put my ears down like the dog. The force of it punctuated my clothing and soon I walked with weights, rivulets running down my face, obliterating any chance of seeing through my glasses. I swear I’m going to invent windscreen wipers for specs one day.
Then just as quickly the rattling and splattering stopped. The battalions of rain dissolved. Noise abated. Pools went still. Dripping could be heard – a lot of it from me. Bird song started up.
And there was such a delicious fresh aroma of wet fields I could almost drink it in along with sniffing up the drips from my nose end. And out burst a shining and a steaming on the lane I wouldn’t have missed for anything. Everything was highlighted.
I hadn’t planned to go out but, as always, I’m sure glad I did. And it was more dramatic than the Olympics!