Walking around in the rain can be a pleasant experience when it’s warm; you just know that, even if you’re soaked to the bone, you’re not likely to shiver, or quiver, or shake with chills.
But walking in rain in the near wintry days of November or the late Winter days of early March is a gruesome task, a punishment, almost like being in a dark, dank, flowing dungeon, waiting for the rats to appear, and – uh, oh – that shadow up ahead may be the guillotine.
At last, relief! A cruel respite but release from the cold rain nonetheless. (But, really, what is that thing up ahead? Oh, yes! Of course! The massive hulk of the oak near the turning of the path…)
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(c) Gregory V Driscoll 2012