We have had some truly wonderful sunny days, with temperatures reaching 28 to 31 Celsius in the afternoons. I love summer and positively thrive in hot weather, whereas I find it hard to deal with the cold.
Today was yet another one of those fine days, and my turn to mind the phone at the office until 6.30 pm.
Of course, at that time, there are still about three hours of daylight left in early July, and to make the most of it, I decided to walk home across the sunlit fields from the small town where I work to the slightly bigger town where I live, which takes me about one hour at a leisurely pace.
Alas, shortly before I was to leave, a rumbling of thunder, a sudden darkening of the sky, and an almost tropical rainfall started.
Nobody was left at the office who could have given me a lift to the train station, so, sticking to my original plan of walking home, walk I did, simply taking my sandals off and splashing my way along the road, where the heavy rain was causing bubbling rivulets to rush past.
Hardly surprising, there weren't any other people out and about, but those who sat in their cars all looked at me and my soaking wet dress, bare feet and dripping hair.
By the time I reached the place where I can choose between going right to the station or straight ahead towards the fields, I went straight ahead.
I was so utterly, totally and completely soaked to the skin that it did not matter if there was more water coming from above, and besides, the rain was warm and felt nice and not cold and hard as I had expected.
Once I was on the fields, the rain stopped.
My dress slowly dried, my skin and my hair more quickly, and when I arrived home, nobody would have guessed that I had just been through a tropical shower.
Maybe there is a small lesson in all that for me.
Next time life soaks me, I will simply keep walking.