Dark and Stormy

It was a dark and stormy day …

Many of our walks begin this way. Dark gray clouds suspended low over the horizon and precipitation in one form or another haunting the twilight space between night and day. I love the shawl of a storm wrapped around the morning's excursion.

Today, as I trekked along the beach, I watched a storm approach over the wide opening of the Willamette's mouth into the Columbia River. Rain hung in a thick curtain from sky to earth and as the wind pushed it toward us, wafts of warning breeze lifted my hair off my face and ruffled Nicholai's thick fur. Soon the clouds burst overhead and rain pelted down on us so we took cover on the southeast side of a hulking cottonwood tree. Partially protected from the downpour, I enjoyed the pattering of raindrops on leaves and the smell of wet grass and musty scent of moist dirt. Nicholai wondered why we were standing still and whined to get us on our way. He has never been one for quietly accepting my standing around chatting. "Let's get this show on the road," he always seems to cry, if and when I stop for any reason. He and I seem cut from the same cloth in that way, we like to go, which is one of many reasons we have long forsaken small fenced dog parks in search of satisfying longer journeys.

Normally, I am well decked-out for a squall; today I had opted for a light tan windbreaker – apparently in complete denial of Oregon's fickle spring weather – so I wanted to let the heaviest of the torrent pass us by. After a couple of minutes with no appreciable let up in the deluge, I flipped the hood of my nearly useless jacket up, and struck out from the shelter of the old tree. By the time we had rounded the point, cut back through the trees and dashed across the open meadow, we were drenched.

No complaints about the rain. A stormy day is an appropriate pacific northwest kind of day, and I cherish the moisture that feeds the rivers and the ground and provides for lush vegetation in our region. I treasure too, the quieting of city sounds and the calming of my busy city mind imposed by nature's outburst. Sunshine will always be a welcome sight, but a good rain makes for wonderful walking meditation.