Not always rain in summer is beautiful. Too many times, with the scouts, I got not wanted showers. But even during a camp in the middle of nowhere, a storm can be funny.
August 2004. My first camp. During the morning it was a light drizzle, but during lunch it had turned into a real violent storm. We wonder a bit, most with The Eagles. That year they built an elevated tent and the wooden structure was ideal for take refuge from the rain that weighed as hail. At about 3 or 4, the leaders called us. That was usually the activities time, but there was not much to do under that downpour, so we all crammed under the Shade Tent. The Shade Tent is a very very big tent, useful when the sun is too hot or the rain it's to rough. We played, sang, joked, and one of the leaders read the camp mail. We loved the mail. There was a small wooden chest where we could leave messages for the others, declare love and hate, passion and revenge, all thanks to anonymity. The leaders sometimes censored a part of it, but most of the time we laugh to tears. I still have a couple of those notes, jokes by my patrol's mates, an invitation from Elly to go to eat Nutella in her refectory. That year we had also a rugby ball. I don't remember those who thought about it. I just know that at some point we were all under the rain to play a rugby without rules or points, just all the grown ups against we kids. It was brutal and beautiful.
Many don't like the end of summer. End and summer, for many, are two words that should not even live together in a sentence. But I like it. It's my favorite time of the year, when summers turn into autumns. It smells of beginnings. I've had too many end in my life, I need more beginnings.
In a rain break, I took photos of the windows of my home.