From the heat, for a while. Very temporary.
As usual on a Saturday afternoon, Carol and I were on the golf course. We had played the first 9 holes in typical early summer conditions: temps in the 90s, very high humidity, and (worst of all) almost no wind. My shirt was wet and I was towelling my face several times each hole.
Towering cumulo-nimbus clouds were visible in the distance in several directions. I had been watching them to determine which direction they were moving. Looked like south-to-north.
Carol gets irritated when she notices me watching the clouds. Like she thinks that I'll bring the rain if I look for it. She gets especially irritated when I predict, "That one over there looks like it's going to get us."
She'll say sarcastically, "Well, do you want to go home now? I mean, if you think it's going to rain on us we might as well leave."
I knew better, but since I'm the forgetful type I made the comment, pointing at a building cloud mass to the south of us and a little to the west. She made her predictable reply, and I apologized. "No, let's keep playing. It might go around us to the east. Or it might not keep building up."
She gave me a look, and turned toward the next tee box. I then remembered to sneak glances at the clouds only when she was addressing the ball.
By four holes later, half-way through the back nine, the entire southern half of the sky had turned menacingly dark, and low rumbles of distant thunder were getting very frequent. As we played the fifth hole the leading edge of the cloud mass passed over us giving us some blessed relief from the blazing sun. Then the cool downdraft wind hit us. Ahhhhh!
We walked off the green toward the sixth tee, thinking we might get in one more hole before we had to seek shelter. Carol hit first; her best drive of the day -- long down the middle with a slight draw. Then the golf course staff blew the air horn signaling all golfers to clear the course. Lightning was approaching.
We walked in while our playing companions Ruth and Donnie drove their cart to the shed.
There's always another day, and usually I don't mind having a round interrupted by weather. Today was different. I had shot a 39 on the front nine. Six pars and three bogeys. I NEVER shoot under 40, and rarely shoot under 45.
I wasn't doing quite as well on the back, so maybe the rain prevented me from ruining what had started out as a memorable round. If nothing else, it provided us about 15 minutes of cool breeze. That was welcome.