Shower

The rain came down all at once this afternoon, accompanied step to step by an angry wind.

Rian, shaken by bursts of small hysterics, chased first Aidan's swim trunks through the back yard, and then the neighbor's empty trash can through the front.

There was no thunder, no lightening. The world was mostly silent except for the hiss of the wind through old sycamores and the smack of rain across concrete.

By the time the neighbor's waste bin had been corralled against Rian's Billious Juniper, I was soaked through and still humming with delight.

I sat on the porch for a ttch, dripping, and watched hydrangea leaves bend beneath the weight of the storm's influence.

Rian can understand why, sometimes, angry or emotional creatures are compared to storms.