Locating and scooping up loose baby chickens by flashlight in a tornadic thunderstorm at 5:30 a.m. is not the way I'd recommend anyone start their day. The brave little souls were scattered about the yard, hunkered down in the tall grass just toughing it out. Each time I picked one up and pressed it into my body (to keep it still) it gushed water from its feathers, like wringing out a sopping wet towel.
Later, after the sun was up, I had to relocated them all yet again (they were in temporary custody of the older birds until sunrise). It had settled down a bit, but it was of course still raining, and I was of course in boots, a short summer bathrobe and a rain jacket. What else?
Don't be like me. Dress appropriately.