The Salt of the Storm

The smell of dry earth turning to mud is the first thing that hits the back of my throat. It is a sharp, metallic scent, like copper coins held in a damp palm. I remember the feeling of cold water sluicing down my neck, the way my clothes clung to my skin like a second, heavier layer of self. There is a specific rhythm to running through a downpour—the slap of wet soles against pavement, the frantic, rhythmic thrumming of droplets against the scalp, and the sudden, breathless lightness that comes when you stop fighting the weather and simply let it soak through. It is a surrender of the skin. We spend so much of our lives trying to stay dry, trying to keep our edges crisp and our surfaces clean, but there is a wild, untamed joy in being completely drenched, in letting the world wash over you until you are nothing but pulse and movement. When was the last time you let the sky decide how you felt?

Sergiy Kadulin has captured this exact feeling of surrender in his beautiful image titled Running in the Rain. It reminds me that sometimes, the best way to move through a storm is to run right into the heart of it. Does this image make you want to step out into the downpour?