an eye-opening encounter with a deluge

Today I felt alive, more alive than I have in a long time. 

This afternoon, I headed out to explore a small lake (or a big pond?) that borders campus and the walking trails that surround it. I found my way with little trouble. It was beautiful, sunny even. I watched a swan dwell among the reeds as I sat by a little waterfall to journal. I watched dirt swirl in the water and leaves blow across the surface of the water. 

On my journey home, the clouds that had been lurking all day burst. Now, if there's one thing about Georgia that's different from Oregon, it's the deluges that come out of seemingly nowhere. Ten minutes of rain can cause a street to flood and double the size of a creek. 

Needless to say, it started raining while I was nearly two miles from home. I donned my raincoat and my waterproof backpack and picked up my speed. Five minutes later, it was downpouring and the streets were flooding. The skies had lowered and had brought a kind of darkness with them. 

After ducking under a bus stop to wait for an emergency vehicle to pass and crossing a flooded street, I ripped off my sandals and started jogging toward home in my bare feet. I splashed loudly as I ran up flights of stairs and ducked around buildings. Thunder began rumbling, and the skies emptied themselves like a cup knocked over by a child--completely and everywhere. 

Despite the nearing thunder, I decided to run for Candler and after a bunch of splish-splashing, I made it. As I waited out the squall, I realized how much fun I was having. I was soaked. My feet? Still bare. My mask? Impossible to breathe from. My hair? Dripping. I pulled it back into a ponytail and looked at my reflection in the window of my school, thinking what a first day impression I would make if someone saw me and I grinned, completely exhilerated. 

And I felt alive.