Running in the Rain

Early this afternoon, a storm rolled through. At first, it was mild--a little thunder, a few flashes of lightning, nothing major. And then the skies opened. It was an official gully washer in five seconds flat, and there I was, open shed doors galore. What is a girl to do? You guessed it: Out I ran into the rain. Barefoot, tanktop and shorts, rain so thick you could hardly see and it felt like a bucket of lead pouring over your whole body. And cold--whooo eee. That was a surprise! It was remarkably invigorating. I covered the whole operation in about a minute and a half, slamming doors and shutting windows and turning off an electric fan that was in danger of falling over with the hard winds pushing the sheets of falling water around and rocking the walls of the bunny barn. The rabbits and chickens were surprised to see me, appearing as I did, like a large, wet rat out of the pouring rain. I made it through the backyard without (1) falling in any holes (2) stepping in dog poop or (3) sliding through mud and wet grass to land on my cushy butt. I burst through the back door in a torrent of rain drops, and raced to the bathroom to fling off sopping wet clothes and warm up with a soft towel.
It was wet. It was cold. It was completely insane, dashing through a flood with thunder and lightning all around.
It was freakin' marvelous.