Misty Mountains

This morning the sky is clear but it’s not supposed to stay that way for long. I am starting to feel a little sun-starved. Partly, it’s the annual closing in of the leafy canopy above me. Partly, it’s that when it is clear, I’m at work or the clear sky is during hours of low sun angle. Mostly, it’s the rain.

Still, this morning is gloriously clear and cool. The mountains to the east are foggy as last night’s rain now rises out of the forest and up into the atmosphere again.

Except for the near-daily rains, life around the cabin has been quiet this week. No new flowers have appeared that I’ve seen. The birds are still singing, so nesting isn’t yet underway in earnest. Mostly, I can’t see many birds right now, as they are hidden behind layers of leaves.

My evening walks these rainy weeks have been shorter than the ones I typically take. I don’t mind working my way through snow or even ice if I’m wearing the right footgear. I haven’t yet learned to appreciate mud, however, and mud is one thing that is not in short supply right now. Dog and I walk in the woods or along a trail up to the point where the ground turns soggy, then I turn around and head back the way I came. Dog would be happy, of course, to prance through the mud, but I have no intention of spending the next hour of my evening washing mud out of a long-haired Dog after we get home. When I walk with Baby Dog, she flat-out refuses to place her pampered, precious toes into mud, so her walks are shortened, too. I think perhaps she got her fill of rain and mud during Hurricane Katrina. My little hurricane baby simply doesn’t want to deal with any of that again. And so we don't.