The skies opened and a rush of rain brought uncontrollable laughter to my seven year old. We fumbled with our new ponchos, were already soaked by the time we got them on. We retreated to our tent. Stripped off our wet belongings and retrieved the keys for Kev to use to gather towels from the car parked at some distance away.
Flashes of light, followed by rolling rumbles, trigger whimpering, and the occasional shriek from the child. Snuggles and reassurances, “Raindrops on roses…”, Harry Potter Book 7… tapping of rain on tent top… As the rain slowed the insects and frogs started their symphony.
Now sound is layered… The natural symphony, my beloved impersonating Delores Umbridge, Matt Maher singing of saints marching in, and still the gentle tap of dripping water.