I shot a big wedding on Saturday--my last of the summer season--and on Sunday morning when I was thinking about going hiking, it was pouring down rain, absolutely sky-is-falling pouring.
I considered staying home and spending the day lazing with a book near the wood stove, but my sweet wife would have none of that. Over the years Leah has learned to recognize the signs of impending crankiness in her mate (my behavioral storm clouds building on the horizon) so she urged me out the door. Rain notwithstanding, there are some days when I apparently need to get outside for exercise or I wind up wandering around the house, acting like a caged animal. Maybe Leah should consider installing one of those race horse hot-walkers out in our sheep pasture. She can hook me up and I’ll walk around and around in circles, going nowhere (but probably entertaining the sheep, who I’m sure already know that humans are crazy.)
I drove to the nearby Olympic National Park. The weather was SO foul I decided to leave my backpack and pro camera gear behind (rather than get everything soaked.) I stashed my snapshot camera in the pocket of my rain jacket and, as I was tying-on my hiking boots at the trailhead, I noticed that there was an umbrella in the trunk of my car. I figured: what-the-heck, I’ll take the umbrella along and hike like a Brit. As it turned out, the portable roof was a good piece of “gear” to have.
Our weather this past week or so has been unseasonably cool and wet, bringing fall color to the high country. Though the trees here in Western Washington don’t generally blaze with the reds of a New England autumn, we do see a pretty intense yellow/gold. Yesterday’s rain and fog seemed to combine for a kind of alchemy of nature, the colors of the leaves alternating from subtle pastels to weirdly vibrant neon. Having the umbrella along gave me a dry spot to stop, linger, and shoot, without worrying about the damage the drip-drip-drip might do to my camera.
Without a heavy pack on my back, I found I had to resist the urge to hike-for-speed. I’m a former competitive runner and I still sometimes equate movement with fitness. In the 30-some years I’ve hiked these mountains, however, I’ve learned that I miss a lot if I move too fast. Yesterday I reminded myself of something Gandhi said:
“There is more to life than increasing its speed.”
