This evening, I slipped out with Tisen in a hurry to get him out and back in before it started to rain. A storm was promising to break lose at any moment–the smell of rain hanging in the air as if the deluge was over instead of yet to begin. Whether it was the tickle of electricity forming far away in the clouds or the accumulating energy evidenced by the swirling winds, Tisen and I both had extra spring in our steps.
We didn’t make it very far before we ran into some neighbors–everyone was out with their dogs. Tisen made a couple of new friends and caught up with several old ones. Then, Twiggy and her daddy arrived on the scene. Tisen was beside himself.
I let Tisen follow Twiggy, his favorite trail leader. We meandered along and followed the dogs. Distracted by Twiggy’s feminine wiles, Tisen was suddenly oblivious to the impending storm.
When a loud clap of thunder sounded, he became momentarily airborne and immediately started looking for shelter. I had trouble keeping him out from under Twiggy’s daddy’s feet as underneath our friend seemed to be the best shelter Tisen could find.
We made our way back, but not in time to avoid a good soaking. I was prepared with my rain jacket, but it rained so hard, my pants were dripping and my sandals were soaked by the time we made it back to the building. Tisen was soaked through.
But I was smiling–it was our first summer storm.
When Pat came home, we sat on the balcony for a bit, watching the clouds and the rain, listening to the sound of gallons of water falling from the sky in a giant curtain of water hitting the pavement below. I had the sudden urge to take a fisheye photo of the sky and the rain and the distant ridge.
The fisheye lens for the iPhone attaches purely by magnetism. I made the mistake of fumbling while trying to get the lens centered around the phone lens. The lens popped loose and we watched in slow motion, our mouths opening, sound forming, and a long, “Ohhhhhh . . .” coming out of mine as the tiny lens tumbled to the floor of the balcony, landing at my feet, and rolled. It rolled for what seemed like 10 minutes while I stood frozen in place, still forming the word “Ohhh” and watched it roll right off the edge of the balcony and fall, and fall some more.
Still in slow motion, I leaned over the balcony and watched for another 10 minutes as the lens fell 7 stories to the patio below, and suddenly, the one piece became at least 2. I sighed and reminded myself it was a $20 lens, not a $2000 lens, but really, I haven’t gotten $20 worth of fun out of it yet.
I was able to retrieve the pieces and it may even be repairable–we’ll see.
Yikes! Hey, a lens is a lens. It’s painful to us all when stuff like that happens.
Sounds like you and Tisen had fun in the rain. You ” two” can find joy in almost everything. Have another good day.