A Rainy Adventure (Entry 3)

Although I should have noticed the signs present in the sky, I found myself in the middle of a light rainstorm Monday evening as I walked through Foster Park. The rain was coming down in a light drizzle, leaving small orbs of water on the small cotton tufts that covered my aged shirt. 

The beginning of the walking trail was home to several flowering trees which were clearly of the same species; despite their relation, their colors gave them each a unique aura: pure, bright white flowers elicited ideas of serenity and peace; soft, light pink flowers evoked a sense of delicacy; and sharp, neon pink flowers brought to mind the idea of strong and proud beauty. The raindrops collected just as easily on each delicate flower petal as they did on my shirt, and they added a notable glisten to the blossoms which was contrasted perfectly with the dark colors found both in the sky and in the tree that produced them. I walked back and forth between these trees for quite a while and closely inspected the flowers and bees that fed from them, and then I decided to move along.

To get out of the rain which was increasing in strength, I decided to go off the trail and down a dried up runoff creek. This path made obvious the catastrophic impact that humans have made in that specific area of what was surely once a beautiful forest, but I reminded myself that this particular damaged area was created out of necessity to preserve the rest of the park rather than out of pure malice or greed. Still, staring at the many exposed root systems along the dried waterway seemed to be an almost macabre experience, so I gathered my photographic evidence of destruction and shuffled away in hopes of finding more natural beauty.

Thankfully, I did not have to travel far before finding the beauty for which I was searching. As I moved back toward the main path, I found a secondary trail that appeared to connect two distant points along the main route. This hidden pathway continued to shield me from the elements, and its high walls reached across each other to make me feel as though I was nestled in nature's warm embrace. I stayed in this sheltered area for quite a while to watch the trees shine and sway in the storm and listen to the birds as they tried to take cover in the brush above my head. 

After a long period of silent (on my end) reflection, I felt satisfied with that day's journey into the wilderness. I was not able to remain dry once I rejoined the main path, but I was so at ease from the momentary escape that rough weather could not act as an impediment to my calm and happy state.