Yesterday I spent a couple hours at the park by myself having a picnic and reading until Matt picked me up. As soon as I got there, what was forecasted to be a sunny day became overcast and breezy. As I sipped on my iced coffee and turned the pages of my book, I wondered where the San Diego sun went that was predicted. Then it began misting. People started packing up and leaving and suddenly I was the sole person in the park, cuddled in my blanket with the pitter patter of drops lightly falling on the pages of my book. As I read, looking up occasionally and noticing that I had the entire park to myself, a refuge in the city that was all mine in that moment, I realized that there is beauty to be found even in the rain that could've ruined a picnic.