June 6: Soaked
Kristen Lindquist
I did actually bring my raincoat on my shopping excursion to Freeport late this morning, but, as it was only sprinkling when I got out of my car, figured a sweater and a hat were good enough for walking around town. Wrong!
LL Bean must have a metal roof, because from the second floor, the downpour--which contained hailstones--sounded like a big freight train of a storm roaring through. A more sensible person would have hung out inside waiting for the deluge to subside. Or bought an umbrella, at least. But I was tired of shopping and wanted to get home. It looked like it was brightening in the western sky. How bad could it really be out there?
Pretty bad. Well, at least it wasn't cold. But ankle deep water running in wide streams down the streets, heavy rain increasing in intensity, and thunder and lightning so loud and close that a few timid tourists actually screamed (don't they have thunder in New Jersey?) added up to me getting utterly soaked to the skin. I find a warm rain invigorating, so at first it was kind of fun. But I had a long ride ahead of me with no spare, dry clothing to change into. So the goosebumps and clinging jeans got old fast. At least there was a great blue heron winging overhead and several ospreys to distract me--every river crossed by Route One seems to host an osprey or two keeping an eye out for late-arriving alewives, and the nest on the median in Bath was definitely occupied.
Despite blasting the heat all the way home, I was still soaked and chilled 1-1/2 hours later when I pulled into the driveway. My husband seemed confused and intrigued as I began stripping off my clothes inside the doorway. He was less intrigued when I then immediately donned about four layers of fleece and flannel.
And it's still raining. The river's running high and brown. If anything, these few wet days have made the green outside more vibrant and intense than ever. The joy I feel at the beauty before me out the window now is finally starting to warm me up.
Undaunted by rain
ospreys hang over river's
brown, fish-filled torrents.
The river after the rain stopped this evening