I used to camp out in my backyard. This year one never knows whether it will rain or not. So I camp out in my living room. Close to the wide open patio doors, so I can quickly close them when the sky breaks open. I still get the fresh air, I still hear the wind in the trees, I still hear my fountains sing their watery songs in harmony, to accompany my dreams.
Towards morning, still pitch dark, I half awoke, and heard water clatter. Oh no, I thought, my fountains have gone out of control. Space creatures have come to take over!!! I scrambled from my cozy sleeping nest, stood and tried to comprehend what was happening. Oh. Without a warning the big guy in the sky had sent what seemed like a 40 day flood. Well, no time to build an ark, but definitely time to walk the dog. My alarm clock going off, told me so. I sleepily dressed in my "sloppy-it-doesnt-matter clothes", stuck my feet in my wellies, grabbed my big, big umbrella, and out in the downpour I went with treats and poopy bags in my pockets, following that dog. So easy to be a dog. A coat that always keeps you at the right temperature, except maybe in an all over disabeling heat wave that retards all living creatures, unless they steal the benfits of that "ruining the environment" invention the air conditioner.
I always enjoy walking under my umbrelly, making a circumference of dry around me, splashing my wellied feet through big puddles, listening to the symphony of raindrops above me and all around. The rain seems to bring out more smells for Simon, and he, without umbrelly, without wellies, wags his tale enthusiasically and takes his time reading doge-mails. What a pair in the dark early hour on deserted streets, just an odd car splashing by.
Wild Thing
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