Well, we were almost rained out, this morning. A steady drizzle had come up out of the canyon, a little before sunrise. Seven soaked & shivering horses turned their tails to the wind, and moved in close together. Seven cowboys, equally soaked, sat and joked about what the growly old foreman's rain dance might look like. We decided it was probably somewhere between the chicken dance, and a seizure. He chuckled, and said that he should put some of this rain in a ziploc bag, in his pocket. That way in August, he could take it out, and look at it, just to be sure he can still remember what it looks like.
We laughed and joked, with our heads tipped back, to keep the rain off of our necks. You have to be careful not to lean forward, without looking down first. Otherwise, water will run right down your crack. The wettest spring in years, and not one of us had a rain coat of any kind.
After about 45 minutes, the rain stopped. We spread out to gather the cows, and I made sure to point out two things, for the youngest boy.
One, this is southeast Colorado, it can be clear warm & nice at 5, and 45°, drizzling rain, with a stiff breeze by 7. (So, next time bring at least a jacket.)
And two, complaining and whining are a major sin, in cowcamp. Even though everyone was miserable, not a one of us mentioned it. Whining about something you can do nothing about is futile... But it can spread like a cancer. The morale of the whole crew can be brought down by one man.