A Walk in the Woods

On Sunday, the sun came out after a morning of rain so we decided to go for a walk in the woods. We were going to be optimistic and not worry about a spot of rain, if it came. So we put on our light summer jackets instead of our cagoules as we felt the warmth of the sun on our faces.

In the woods, the trees closed their branches over us. We followed a path into the thickening vegetation. The sky began to darken and in the half-light, the air itself seemed shimmering green.

It began to rain and the drumming of the drops on the leaves felt comforting. It was a sound that reminded me of home and tropical rainstorms. We felt smug here on the woodland floor, the soft droplets caught in the branches before reaching us.

The downpour intensified. Fat raindrops powered through the leaves and began to drench the path. Sheets of water fell. There was nowhere to hide, no spreading canopy robust enough to shelter us. In moments, we were soaked, rivulets running down our face and cold trickles creeping under our collars. My trousers stuck clammily to my legs. My feet swam in my shoes.

The streaks of rain across the trees were disorienting. My glasses misted up and rain streamed into my eyes. We wandered for awhile at a point where several paths crossed, trying to remember the one that would take us back to the car. My head was cold and wet and I couldn’t think.

By the time we got to the car, the rain had eased to a drizzle. As we wiped our glasses and dripped forlornly onto the clean, warm seats, the sun came out.

We drove home in a blaze of sunshine.

Typical.