My wife did warn me that rain was expected, but it didn’t look much like rain, and I was in a hurry to get to America’s Favorite Urban Park, so I ran out without my big black umbrella. Over the hill from Skinker I went, and wandered through the meadow, so tall with grass and flowers (some of them taller than I), through the woods, slowly, carefully past the museum, down Art Hill and onto Picnic Island. Looking up from down there, I saw the storm clouds coming on and decided to quicken my pace.

I had reached the shelter of the Muny before the rain broke, so I stood and watched the surface of Pagoda Lake, pocked as it was by raindrops.  I had a peaceful, easy feeling, watching the rain and smelling the clean scent it brings with it. I made some new friends in the Visitors Center and was spotted by a friend as I walked towards the Grand Basin. Oh, and I found a lot of bugs; wanna see?