I understand why we have to have rain. I understand that April showers bring May flowers, and all that jazz. I'm even willing to give my meteorologist friends breaks once in a while when they call for sun, but get rain. Like today.
Don't worry. There's no "but" coming.
It's the Pisces in me. I love moving water. Plunk me down beside a running brook on a summer's day. Drop me in the deepest depths of the ocean among the sightless fish (just give me a flashlight and I'll be good for hours). Set me off on a rainy day through a dense pine forest, where the mosses glisten their shiny greens. In any of these places, I'm home.
I was there today. The sun was never close to coming out, yet the moderate temperatures promised a true spring experience. The rain tapped at the leaves and the occasional wind gust blew, but none of it ever reached me, as the canopy sheltered me from it all. There was not much to see, but that wasn't the point anyway. A single chickadee sounded in the woods. A northern flicker picked at bugs in the South Field. At the spot on the map that read "Cow Pond," there was no pond, and there certainly was no cow. But I bet I can figure out what happened there in the past.
If nothing else, it was a day a frog could love. In my little corner of the world today, there were about thirty of them experiencing such amorous feelings. They were at either end of the sound spectrum. The wood frogs clucked like chickens with sore throats. The spring peepers peeped, like, well, like baby chickens. I may as well have been in a barnyard.
Time: 99 minutes.
New species: None.
Stranger hellos: None.
What else is going on today: finished graphic design with my coauthor Don on a new book, and submitted cover photo choices to the publisher; bought a book for my wife; signed some paperwork accepting a $5000 grant to write yet another book (now I just have to write it!) and create a traveling exhibit with a partner; planned the next few articles I'm going to write for South Shore Living magazine with the editor; wrote an article for the Captain's Guide magazines; booked a hotel room for an upcoming trip to Pennsylvania.