There we were, having a lovely afternoon at High Line park, an old elevated train line converted into a pedestrian pathway. Sure, it was a little humid. Sure, it was a little windy. The sun was shining, the students were in good spirits. What could go wrong?
And it started. Wind. Serious wind. Remember the crazy winds we had in Brampton on Friday May 4 2018? Well, that was a light breeze compared to what we experienced. We made for the bus, but it was several blocks away. Manhattan dust tastes bad. And we ate a lot. And the clouds got closer and closer.
We felt some drops. The heavy kind where when one hits you, that part of your face is soaked. We kept going. The bus couldn't be more than a few more meters away right? Just around the next corner right? There was a sense of urgency in the air. Our pace quickened. The teachers at the back of the pack advanced to a light jog. We turned the corner. No bus. More drops.
We knew we weren't going to beat the rain. It was coming down a little harder and we were still walking, but quickly.
And there it was. The bus. Our shelter from the storm. We boarded. Not thirty seconds later, it poured, and it was a storm of biblical proportions! But we survived. Dust filled. A little wet. But we escaped the torrential downpour.
The whole experience was awesome.