It rained yesterday.

We sat under The Epic Van’s awning in Red Canyon Campground with a stunning view of sandstone cliffs through tall pine trees and watched it rain.

The morning was sunny and hot. But by midday, clouds gathered. Faraway thunder rumbled. And in the afternoon, it started.

The raindrops were big and fat. They made little ploofs of dust when they hit the dry ground. It drove the darling chipmunks underground, and the other campers under cover.

Some hikers got caught in it, walking off the trail near our spot with more purpose and less ambling than usual.

The sound on our awning was like the calming music they sell to people who can’t sleep.

The toes of my hiking boots, sticking out from the awning, got wet, but the dirt under the big pine by our picnic table stayed dry.

The air got cool, and I put on my thick pink cotton shirt to stay warm.

We put off our afternoon yoga plans due to wetness.

This morning, after Tom’s hike, it was sunny and warm again.

We rolled out our yoga mats on the once-again dry pavement next to The Epic Van and did some impromptu stretching for my complaining hip. We have no internet to follow our yoga app in a regular practice, so we did whatever we remembered.

After lunch, the clouds made a repeat appearance, more thunder and, this time, drenching rain, with tiny hail popping all over the ground, making pinging sounds on our awning.

The rain was hard enough that it forced us, like the chipmunks, to withdraw to cover, and the temperature drop sent us under our down comforters to read.

The sound of the rain on the roof worked like the marketers promise, and Tom and I both fell asleep.