Clouds swirled around me as I worked up the steep trail toward an overlook near Rocky Peak. I stopped and listened to the patter of the rain against the rocks, its intensity rising and falling with the gusts of wind.
The wind-driven rain trickled down my face, tasting cool and clean. It didn’t matter that my running clothes were soaked and that with each gust I could feel a chill. It was raining!
In the same manner that a color will sometimes appear especially pure and vibrant, there was an unusual liveliness to this rain.