Because it rained today, I packed a towel.
I guess I plan more in weather, since we don’t have that much of it.
And I remembered the leash, a water bowl and bottle of water.
Simple things that flit away from my mind on yet another sunny, Northern California day, when I get the dog in the car and my daughter to her Sunday volunteer class across town– but forget the rest.
With two hours to ourselves and miles of canal side paved trails, the dog and I are giddy at breaking free after two days of rain-induced cabin fever.
It’s not the same as our beloved leash- free runs on the miles of open space near home, but it will work.
We rush for no other reason than to open up our dormant limbs, and feel the exhilaration of cool air filling our lungs.
The much needed soft February rains that I’ve used as excuse for a few lazy days of reading by the fireplace or indulging in a Saturday movie with the family, may be a long way from answering a certain summer drought, but they nonetheless have been busy, secreting away a labyrinth of small treasures:
– the very first tentative but joyful cherry blossoms pushing their bright faces
out from an outstretched limb;
– the small waterfalls emerging in the swishing creek, stirring the ducks from
their submerged underwater explorations for a mid morning snack;
– the light tiptoeing of rain drops on the canal’s surface, like an invisible
dancer leaving only intermittent ripples where her satin wrapped tiny toes glanced
– a small sparrow, resting lightly on a bench under the protective spread of a
pine tree, like an old woman enjoying the momentary timelessness of the verdant,
quiet space, while waiting for her bus;
– the rebellious escape of a mass of purple flower-covered vines rushing through
an unnoticed space in a backyard fence;
– a hopscotch path of puddles, bidding my pup to break her running gait and
gleefully pounce into their outstretched watery arms, one to the next, to the
next, and the one after that.
We missed a turn on our run, adding an extra half mile, because we were so caught up in this tea party of perfectly prepared little joys.
Because I’d planned for the rain, when we returned to the car, soggy and tired, we shared the towel and the water, my dog and I.
What I hadn’t planned for today was the magic.
No towel could wipe the smiles from our faces.