This morning, Megan and I woke up in bed, listenting to the rain hitting the metal roof of her parent's log home. I don't sleep with my glasses on, so things are a bit fuzzy in the morning, but I could just sense that perhaps the day was just a little brighter than than yesterday morning even though it was still persistently raining. As the blood began to course through my body awakening me, I managed to say something like "Meg, we should get up, I think there is some blue sky out there"
She confirmed what my early morning glassless eyes had told me- there was in fact a tiny patch of blue sky that had opened up in a seam of the gray, low clouds. You see, it has been raining since we got here. My father-in-law calls it a "Scotch Mist" but whatever you call it, it is just plain wet without any sun to speak of.
So I did wake up, get the camera, and take a picture of the fleeting blue sky. I hope to see that once again here at little pond, and hopefully, that will bring out the dragonflies and other insects I was hoping to photograph while here. And hopefully, for my brother-in-law Ben, and his fiance Rachel, that sun will come on Sunday when they tie the not on the lawn of my parent's-in-laws home.
I must say, being confined to a log home in the woods while it rains all day can be quite relaxing. After a crazy morning of wedding rehearsal which was actual a wedding planning session, the house has finally quieted down a bit to where you actually have to listen carefully to here anybody. By 6:00 tonight, we'll be back in the hustle and bustle, as out of town guests arrive for the rehearsal dinner of lobster and lamb kabobs. I can't wait.
So I sit, in the house, quiet rain coming down, watching the water drops cling to the balsam fir, white pine, and white spruce. I down a few gallons of clean Maine air, and think, "Do I really want to go back to Columbus?!"
It really is wet here. Yesterday afternoon the mist broke for a few hours and I trampled through the damp fir forest, photographing rivulets of water that have turned into flowing streams with the rain. Streams course across the ground where they just haven't before, and the bog of the pond, normally quite meadow like, is now full of puddles and is more marsh like than anything. The best part of the rain? It has given me yet another perspective of Little Pond that I didn't think I would get during the second week of August. We were here the same week last year, but with the rain, everything is more lush. The highbush and lowbush blueberries, the huckleberries, and the viburnums are bursting with fruit. The hummingbirds seem to be visiting the feeders more often, needing quick bursts of energy more than ever with the cool temperatures, and the baby frogs are everywhere along little pond road. It is a botanical and natural wonderland.
So right now, I'm about to don my new rain jacket purchased from L.L. Bean in Freeport and head out into the water to see what we see. Who knows, perhaps I'll run across the bear they've been telling me about. If I do, I'm sure it will be wet.