Farm Life: Rain

Rain is a strong presence here. 

I recall several years ago encountering a heavy rainstorm most days as I commutes home from my summer job. Like clockwork, rush hour and dark clouds would coincide. I vaguely associated summer afternoons with these storms. 

Now I am wholly aware of the clashing weather fronts most evenings. Around dinner time the clouds start to darken. Before we head back to field camp to sleep the thunder starts echoing off the hills that surround us. By bedtime it begins to rain. And that's if we are lucky. 

During our training week, we had a particularly bad storm. It started to rain while we were eating dinner. It showed no signs of letting up by nightfall. Instead of slogging back to camp, we stayed in the main house for the evening. That was the right call. Both streams in the valley flooded. The waters flowed through camp, under the platforms and foundations, and even washed our footbridge off its supports. Had we spent the night out there, we would have been stranded until the waters receded enough to cross the stream. 

It hasn't been that bad since, but some weeks it seems that our shady little glen in the woods will never dry completely, or the muddy puddles on our path will never go away. Slowly the sun will dry up the earth, despite our silent pessimism. But until then we pull on our rain jackets and boots and splash through the day.