Archives for posts with tag: let it rain

Enjoy the moment.

Stormy but mild, the weather is what it is.

Yesterday was lovely. Oh, not without a brief moment that was less than ideally harmonious, but we are human primates after all, the emphasis being on “primates”. Sometimes communication is more difficult than we’d like it to be, and in any household that includes me, this is complicated by both PTSD and brain damage. Still, generally speaking it was a lovely day spent in my Traveling Partner’s good company, and the rare moment of irritation or discord resulted in a better connection and clearer understanding of each other. Useful.

I make it a practice to focus on the positive, to reframe conflict in terms that allow me to grow and become more the person I most want to be over time, and as a means of allowing me to appreciate each finite mortal moment with my beloved. We’re both quite human. There’s no doubt we love each other deeply, and it truly matters to both of us to to heal, to support each other, and to move on from moments of conflict. Yesterday didn’t require much effort in that regard; it was a lovely day in good company.

I spent a good while reading, yesterday, which I enjoy quite a lot. I spent time writing and enjoyed sorting the many stickers my beloved Traveling Partner had gifted to me. (So fun! So delightful!) He worked on a project nearby, and we hung out together, each contentedly doing our own thing, together.

Today begins well. I get to the trailhead at sunrise, feeling well rested and merry. The walk down the marsh trail is pleasant, if a bit “squishy” from prolonged recent rain. It is sprinkling this morning. I don’t really care about that. I do care about the pain in my left foot (which I have been thinking was a flare up of tendonitis or maybe plantar fasciitis), which slows me down a bit. It becomes obvious as I walk this morning that it may be something much more practical in nature; I think the heel in these boots has some kind of “air cushion” or similar design, and I think the left side has blown out from wear. I’m annoyed by this because these boots can’t be re-soled. Well shit. They’re three, maybe four years old, and I’m probably due to replace them. I don’t really feel like dealing with that, but the path ahead will need sturdy boots, eh? That’s not even a metaphor; good boots make a lot of difference in the quality of a walking experience. I mean, okay, it’s also a metaphor.

…But I guess either way, I need new boots…

I stop a little farther on from my “halfway point”. I’m in no rush. It begins to rain a little harder and lacking overhead cover from the trees, I walk to the photographer’s blind grateful to find it unlocked, and unoccupied. It is a good spot to write and to take shelter from the rain.

What about the day ahead? No idea, really. Yesterday was lovely. There is no shopping to do, no errands on my to-do list, nothing on my mind. I’ll walk, and maybe do a bit of boot shopping before I head home to do some routine housekeeping and such. Maybe bake some bread if I have the energy later? Seems a good day for it. Maybe chili for dinner? I remind myself to check that I have all the ingredients.

Life being lived. Nothing extravagant or fancy, all pretty ordinary stuff. Where it gets complicated is that it is too easy to become wound up and twisted over some moment of disharmony or disappointment, and overlook all the joy and contentment. Savor the joy! Be present for the moments! Appreciating the pleasant moments and the small joys with the same focus, commitment, and energy we seem to save for arguments creates emotional resilience and a more accurate implicit sense of who we are and the life we lead. It’s also simply a very nice way to experience life fully; be present for each moment. That’s a pretty useful practice.

The rain stops. My Traveling Partner pings me a good morning greeting as he wakes. A large flock of geese passes overhead. There are more storm clouds on the horizon. The sky is a homogeneous milky gray. I sit with my thoughts and this quiet feeling of joy, and prepare to begin again.

Metaphorically or in life, sometimes it is going to rain. Pretty much a certainty, actually, that at some point we’re going to get rained on as we journey life’s path. lol This morning the rain is quite literal. The weather forecast suggests it will lighten up enough to enjoy my walk sometime very soon, so I take a few minutes to write, and wait.

…I won’t be writing on the trail this morning, too wet…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I slept well, and took yesterday pretty easy. I’m glad I did, and I am grateful to have had my Traveling Partner’s encouragement. I feel more rested, and my body feels more recovered from the previous week. It’s quite nice to take the weekend off for real, instead of swapping one sort of work for another.

Don’t forget to take breaks! Make that time for yourself even when life feels “too busy”. This fragile vessel needs that care from us, even while we’re caring for others. These finite mortal lives deserve our attention. The payoff is worth it.

I sigh contentedly, listening to the rain and watching daybreak come. I even slept in this morning. Feels good. I feel good. Another day of luxurious rest, and I’ll definitely be ready to begin again. 😀 I hear the raindrops slow down, and stop… I’m ready.

It was still drizzling when I got to the trailhead, but it didn’t last. I decided to take the “back trail” from the trailhead tucked away on the far side of the nature park. It misses the marsh and crosses a creek and a meadow before winding through the trees along the bank of the Tualatin river. It’s a lovely walk for a gray Spring morning in May.

Another point of view on familiar circumstances.

I dodged a passing shower under the cover of the trees, listening to the rain hitting the leaves and the relatively calm surface of the river. It didn’t last. My halfway point was rain-soaked and muddy, not suitable for sitting, and I walked on, pausing when my Traveling Partner pinged me a greeting and checked on me; he could see from my location on the map that I wasn’t in my usual place. He wishes me well and hopes I enjoy my walk. Yes, we share our location with each other.

In this relationship having my location shared with my partner never feels like a violation of privacy or at like I’m “being watched”; it’s a safety thing. I like hiking and camping alone, and it’s nice to know he knows where I am if something were to “go wrong”. It also serves to put his mind at ease to know I am safe. The reciprocity is connected and loving. I don’t have to worry when he’s out on the road somewhere, I can just check Maps and see that he’s okay without pinging him while he’s driving. It’s not for everyone, I get it (and this is the only relationship I’ve been in where it has felt safe to be so connected in this way).

I finished my walk as the sky grew grayer and darker. My back continuing to ache fiercely with arthritis. I make it to the car just as the rain begins falling hard. A drenching down pour barely catches the arm of my sweater as I pull the car door closed, grateful for my good timing. I sit listening to the rain fall, content to sit with my thoughts and write a few words while it rains.

Whatever. Let it rain.

It’s a pleasant Saturday, full of moments for joy and opportunities to choose. I look over my “to-do list” and consider the day ahead. I think about beginning again, and where my path may lead. I think about my garden and wonder if I’ll have a break in the rain to get some work done there? It may rain all day. If it does, there’s nothing to do about that but let it rain. lol That’s okay; the garden likes the rain. I like it, too.

I sit awhile with my thoughts, letting the rain fall, and breathing the scent of Spring. Breathe. Exhale. Relax. Begin again.

This morning I woke to an ordinary Saturday, with ordinary plans: an ordinary walk on a familiar trail, a typical Saturday routine of grocery shopping and some housekeeping tasks. Of course, it’s only entirely predictable (and somewhat amusing) that today there’s no rain. I smile to myself at the utter predicability of such circumstances. Plans are only plans, and the weather doesn’t take my plans into account, it just happens.

Rainy trails, rainy paths, rainy day.

Yesterday rained. It rained hard. It rained persistently. It rained sideways. The wind blew the rain under the cover of the gazebo where I had hoped to paint with a ferocity that ensured I couldn’t. I can only laugh about it. I got some great hiking in (in the rain), and pleasant time spent with my thoughts (listening to the rain fall). It was a good day. I went home early, and painted some there. It was less of what I had in mind, but it was plenty of what I needed.

I saw some beautiful places.

Sometimes “enough” has to be… enough.

I walked some challenging miles.

The cumulative effect of days hiking new trails, eager and energetic, unconcerned about the terrain, finds me aching all over this morning. My ankles ache. My back aches. My head aches. I’m stiff and my muscles are sore. I’m not really complaining, just noticing how I feel, physically. It’ll pass, mostly, and the exertion and varied movement is healthy. (Besides, I’ve been having a great time, and this pain is a small price to pay.) I managed to actually sleep in this morning, waking almost two hours later than I ordinarily might. I woke feeling rested, calm, and content.

I sit sipping my coffee and watching daybreak become the dawn of a new day. I’ll walk this familiar trail, then return home, hitting up the grocery store on my way. Housekeeping today, definitely, but maybe I’ll also paint? The future isn’t written, and this is a very good time to begin again.

Every journey begins where you are. It’s a good place to start.

Interesting day, yesterday. My travels took me up winding mountain roads to new places, new trails to walk, new spots to sit and think and listen to birdsong and breezes. I found a new forest to “lose myself” in, on miles of well-kept trails.

One trail leading to others, some narrow, some steep, some descending to creek beds, others tracing the ridgeline.

Elsewhere, high on a hill, out in the countryside far from the noise of city and suburb, I found a new place to paint with a remarkable view. Well…on some other day, perhaps, or some other moment, the view will be remarkable. lol Yesterday, the view was misty, and obscured by the low hanging clouds that had wrapped the mountainside.

A new favorite place to paint, weather permitting.

The mist didn’t stop me from painting. It’s beautiful there, exactly as it was. What stopped me from setting up and painting the lovely scene was the rain that fell steadily. There is no cover, there, and I wasn’t set up to deal with that. Water falling from the sky is no way to treat soft pastels! lol I sat listening to the rain fall contentedly, thinking about how to set up my easel in the car, such that I could comfortably paint. It’s a smallish tabletop easel, and it seems likely it might be possible. I was entertained by that thought, and satisfied to sit quietly, listening to the wind in the trees and the sound of raindrops on the roof of the car, waiting for the rain to stop. It never did.

Mist and mud.

I whiled away a good bit of time enjoying my thoughts and the moments as they ticked by. I got out into the wind and rain to explore the muddy slopes and trails that clung to the hillside, twice. Time well spent, but the park is a small one and I quickly completed the few short trails, and got soaked and chilled in the process. No complaints, I enjoyed the morning. By afternoon, my thoughts were of hearth and home and the prospect of a hot shower and warm dry clothes.

The dense fog accumulating seemed to be a hint that it was time to head home.

The mist became a dense fog, and I decided to head home rather than risk a more hazardous drive later. (Conveniently, my Traveling Partner was missing me, and eager to welcome me back.) The drive home seemed both shorter and easier than the drive to the park had been.

Damn that hot shower felt so good! A simple luxury elevated by a chilly rainy morning hiking muddy trails. Perspective.

Now, it is morning once more, and another new beginning, another day off spent (hopefully) painting in some beautiful place. I am listening to the wind and waves at a favorite bluff above the beach at Road’s End. It’s not my destination, today, but a good spot to wait for daybreak, and watch the dawn come.

A long exposure lets me capture something of the moment, although it’s barely daybreak and still quite dark.

I have this place to myself, other than the gulls already busy overhead, and quite noisy. Another beautiful place. A soft misty sort of rain covers the windshield in tiny droplets. I don’t hear rain, just the wind and the waves on the seashore. I laugh quietly to myself. Will I be “rained out” (in?) again today? It was raining quite hard when I left the house a little more than an hour ago. The forecast is rain, everywhere, all day. I’m not bothered; the moment is my own, in spite of the rain.

I wonder briefly about the affairs of the world, then let all that go; it is reliably an insane clown car tossed into a dumpster fire in this current administration and I really don’t want to hear another word about the insanity, the corruption, the cruelty, the lies, or elon-fucking-musk. 100% of all of that can wait. For the moment, my own sanity and self-care are by far more important (to me). It’s not as if anything particularly unpredictable is going to develop. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let all that go, and pull myself back to “now”, the wind, the waves, the gulls overhead – this moment, here.

A misty gray dawn, a new day.

The dawn comes. I swap my soft shoes for my sturdy hiking boots and grab my cane. I love this beautiful place, familiar and cherished. I stop here as often as I come to the coast. This view brings to mind my Granny, who loved the sea, and my Dear Friend, although she and I never made it to this place together. I’ll walk down the steep rocky, muddy, path and walk the shoreline for some little while, before I head down the road to the place I hope to paint from, today. Whether I do or not, it’s a new day, and it is mine. I don’t know where this path leads, in any specific way (metaphorically speaking), but I know I will see some beautiful places.

… Funny… when I planned my time off, the forecast had suggested that these would be mild days, with a limited chance of some rain… I laugh at myself trying to plan around the weather. The plan is not the experience. The intention does not determine the outcome. It doesn’t really matter, my time is my own, and the clock is always ticking – I’ll just have to walk the path ahead of me as it is.

Where does this path lead?