Wet Pants

As I walked up this hill on the edge of the Pentlands tonight, I looked West to where the sun should have been setting, and North to where I should have been able to see the Forth bridges, and these very words went through my head...

...it's not *if* it's gonna rain...it's *when* and *how hard*...

...and kept walking...reached my vantage point...got my camera out...despite the first wee spits...got excited at that big dramatic wedge of darkness streaming rain down on North Edinburgh...and started taking photos.

It wasn't exactly a surprise that it started hailing...stinging my poor wee bare be-shorted legs...but somehow...when the battering on the camera was too much to get a sharp image...I was a bit affronted that it was doing it to ME...

...I mean c'mon...I was its pal surely...this dramatic cloud...and trying to show it up in a good light...all powerful and stuff...omnipotent...sexy...and this was the Thanks I get...wet through to my threadbare skanties!

It was so intense...wetting...cold...and loud...that it was hilarious...and I laughed all the way back to the car...half-running, half-huddling...and completely alive with it.

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