A Midwestern summer day where I wipe the sweat from my face on a humid morning, and by afternoon the clear calm sky has turned cloudy and thunderous.
I thought the promise of the sunny morning would offer a great day for fishing or hiking. I went off on a narrow path by a lake full of frog’s voices. I held there in my spot for a moment listening to croaks and plops of fishing lures hitting water. I held a moment too long.
It began to rain gently at first, and then turned into a downpour. As I ran for cover, I saw a large tree with its green branches stretching over a picnic table. There was a brightly colored green umbrella. A fisherman sat peacefully in the downpour with an umbrella under the tree, still casting his line.
Well at least it wasn’t crowded at the lake.