Monterey, California

 

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched, but just felt in the heart.” — Helen Keller

We had a moment between rain storms. I hadn’t been out for a walk in several days and was going crazy, so I grabbed an umbrella and headed out. The sky was brooding, with dark clouds crawling over the hills, but I pushed on. The reflection pool in the forest that only appears during heavy rains was in full display. There’s something magical about this black pond in the woods. Focusing into the reflection, a deep inverse universe appears, the sky and trees distorted by drip rings spreading across the surface. Rain began to fall, turning the vision into ripples of light like a prism spinning in the sun. I pushed on.

Deeper into the woods, our neighborhood family of deer in their dark brown winter coats munched away on the fresh green like they owned the place. And for some unknown reason, my ears, plugged from a head cold, decided to pop open. Suddenly, my head filled with hi-fi surround splendor, rain dripping on the umbrella, purring on the foliage, swirling down the gutters, gurgling and splashing everywhere. As the rain slowed and the sun edged its way out, the ravens and scrub jays appeared from nowhere, shaking their heads and pruning their feathers in the warm rays.