You didn't check the forecast. Maybe you should have. The first drops hit the awning like fingertips testing a drum. Then the sky opens. Rain hammers the aluminum roof in sheets, a sound so loud and so complete it erases every other thought from your head. You lie inside, warm and dry, listening to water do what water does. There is nowhere else to be. Nothing else to do. Just the storm, the roof, and the strange peace that comes from being sheltered inside a small moving box in the middle of nowhere while nature does its loudest work.