It has been awhile since I have run in the morning rain. I had almost forgotten the feel of the drops; the combined feel of their cold against my body heat, suspending me mid air as I howl down the hill, soaked to my bones. I cut through the park, my own version of the African Jungle, mist hanging from tree branches; I suck in air, now closing the door to the world behind me. I am alone on this African Safari, other than the spider whom spins a web of protection around me, as a cool and steady calm now seeps into my brain.