I was staring out onto the yard at the darkened wet concrete and out towards the basketball court and the picnic tables surrounding it. They would be called out at any minute now.
The hard rain this morning was a relief, the low dark clouds blotting out the intense July sun. Now the rain was light and looking at the puddles being dotted I went back to my childhood, before I knew anything about bad choices, consequences, and the evils of the world. I miss those days of summer when we would play out in the pouring rain with not a care in the world.
Soon the sun came out turning the yard into an instant steam bath. The men came out for their one hour of recreation time. There was one with his back to the end of a picnic table, his hands gripping the top, his shoulders pumping up and down.
"Put down the picnic table, they aren't there for your deltoids."
"What else are we going to do with them?"
"Have a picnic."
The Beatles 'Rain'