The windshield wipers could not keep up.
A sideways-borne torrent of a gully-washer rain beat against the glass almost obscuring even the huge hulking shape of the semi behind which my little Super Beetle huddled as we splashed our way slowly forward.
‘Not even a day for ducks,’ I muttered, pulling my sleeve over my hand to futilely wipe away – for the umpteenth time – the fog which the defroster only feebly addressed.
Finally arriving at the place I’d never been, I bent against the onslaught and that’s when I saw it.
Having ignored the sidewalk and instead crossing the lawn as it was the shortest distance to where I needed to go, I paused.
There at my feet was beauty abounding; rain drops like tiny pearls on gossamer strands; galaxies of planets clustered on every leaf.
And in my hurry through the misery of where I needed to go, I almost missed it.