perhaps it is cliche , but there is something special about desert rain.
i've lived where it has rained for weeks on end, and although special, because i love rain, it doesn't hold the same whimsical quality.
whimsical.
i use this word for lack of a better term.
but today running through a river of rainwater racing down the depression in the mountain my campus sits in, the Sun Bowl, didn't cause frustration.
instead a bubbling of laughter rose from my core. squeals escaped as the down pour increased its drenching rhythm. the splash my sandal-ed feet made echoed with exaggerated suction as i pulled away from the rain insistent in encompassing me.
rain drops ran down my shortly cropped hair into my eyes, drops ran down my naked arms, splashed onto my bare legs, until i was soaked.
and still more laughter escaped me because of the fruitless effort of those around me carrying umbrellas and scurrying against the running water.
inside we all looked drowned and soggy; cold.
but in a place where rain is sparse, the unexpected shower seemed like a blessing in a typically dry unforgiving heat.
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