Walking in the Rain

I am cozy and sheltered under my umbrella.
Looking up at the underside, enchanting with a Monet impression.
I listen to the rain as the soaking splashes down onto the lush, green leaves around me.
Wanting to believe the tall trees and carpets of grass are drinking it in. That the rain is pure and beneficial. Still nourishing for them.
I feel a rejoicing winding It’s way up to my vocal chords.
Oh, the freshness of the air. The juicy bubbles pounding the ground, bursting with oxygen.
I see no one around as I begin to run and jump in puddles. Senses on overload, like a child. Gleeful and laughing from pure silliness.
I toss the umbrella of to the side of the walkway. Feeling wild abandon just for the hell of it. The joy of it. The silliness of it.
I wonder if anyone is watching? I hope so. I could then watch them be silly and uninhabited as a child. Wouldn’t that be something marvelous?