March 9, 2024
Wild Rain
My wife was working a late shift, and the dogs were restless, waiting for their mamma to come back home. She arrived at three in the morning, after which the dogs settled, sleeping through the rest of the night. When I woke up at five, it was storming and the weather app on my phone showed rain for the entire day. These kinds of days made for slow mornings, which I didn’t mind, especially on a weekend.
The night before, I was up later than usual while my wife was at work. With the fire blazing and the night so beautiful, I had trouble cutting it off. Just one more, I told myself, grabbing another log and throwing it on the fire. Sitting outside and watching the campfire was one of my favorite activities.
When my wife woke up, I invited her to breakfast, which always made her happy. First, however, we sat down with Koda, our dog, who was anxious and particularly attached to my wife. Because she was gone last night during dinner time and asleep this morning during doggy breakfast, Koda skipped two meals, leaving a full bowl of food while he lied down, worrying about his mamma. My wife mixed a little milk into his bowl and sat down with him as he picked at his food.
We arrived at Cracker Barrel a little after eleven and found it packed with people. There was a twenty-minute wait, which felt like an hour as we walked around the store looking at all the things the place sold. Seemed like a bunch of useless clutter to me. Our server was nice, but because the place was busy, we waited a long time before our food arrived. Once it did, however, it was hot and super tasty. The wait was well worth it.
My wife asked to stop at a grocery store so we could pick up a few packets of wet food for Koda. Since she would work late for the next few nights, she wanted to make sure he was eating. I volunteered to take her to Harris Teeter. Although their groceries were expensive, they always had a fabulous selection of beers. I loved trying new, local IPAs, so we picked up a few different types. For me, some Hop Drop ‘N Roll IPA brewed by Noda Brewing Company in Charlotte and Cooler Nights IPA brewed by Hi-Wire Brewing in Asheville. My wife chose some Nutz & Voltz, a seasonal coconut coffee porter brewed by Highland Brewing, also in Asheville.
When we arrived home, my wife studied before taking a nap on the couch while I edited writing pieces in my office. I pulled the blinds up, but the normally bright light did not enter my office windows. The day looked more like dusk, with the thick clouds blocking the sun and rain pouring all around. It was a peaceful scene, but I felt shut in.
As my wife slept, I drove to the Piggly Wiggly, noting how ominous the skies looked. There, I picked up some chicken wings and a bag of bacon jerky. I put the chicken in a teriyaki marinade, grabbed some earthworms and a rain jacket, and headed to Buckhorn Reservoir. When I arrived, there was a truck near the entrance broken down. An older gentleman was putting a tire in the truck’s bed and when I looked at the front driver’s side, I saw the bare wheel hub assembly exposed, set down on the asphalt where it had cut a long line into the road. I asked the man if he needed help and he told me he had help on the way.
While the reservoir looked like nobody had business being there, there were a few boats in the rough water and people fishing off the bank and pier. I found an empty pier and walked to the end, pausing while a teenage couple took photos of themselves. After they finished, I set up my gear, strapping it down to a metal pole so it wouldn’t slide off into the rough, murky water. The rain and winds made for choppy waves, but I stayed and fished for an hour before heading back home to see my wife off to work.
My wife kissed me goodbye and drove off as dusk was setting in. It was drizzling, so I grabbed my headlamp and headed into the forest for a walk at last light. Rain had soaked the forest, darkening its colors. The tree bark looked blackened, and the green pine needles and fresh leaves on the trees were dark green. The forest floor, usually light shades of brown from the dead pine needles and leaves, was deep orange, the color of Thai tea. It smelled good today, sweet, organic; earthy.
I ended my walk just as the last hints of sunlight faded across the sky. After, I split some logs into kindling and lit a fire. The rain subsided for about an hour, allowing me to relax outside under a few faded stars by the warmth of the fire. I put on some music as I thought about Emerson’s essay, Self-Reliance, that I studied this morning. Emerson argued that society, in exchange for some greater good, had made a virtue of compliance. He said our culture asked for, and expected us to give up, our individuality and base our thoughts on the ideas of others.
Emerson wrote: “Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood [adulthood] of every one of its members. Society is a joint-stock company, in which the members agree, for the better securing of his bread to each shareholder, to surrender the liberty and culture of the eater. The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance is its aversion.”
In this age of social media and online information, Emerson’s ideas rang truer than ever. I thought about how easy it was for people to fall into societal roles in order to get this for that. Society’s quid pro quo contract with its members seemed, to me, to be an effective way of cloning what was dusty and no longer relevant at best, and inferior at worst. When mediocrity becomes the aim of achievement, then we have effectively hobbled the human spirit.
A large raindrop hit my head, interrupting my thoughts. The rain had returned, falling slowly, but with enormous drops. As I stared into the hot red coals, I saw raindrops hit them, causing a loud hissing sound as the radiating heat vaporized the cold water. The water drops created temporary black spots on the red coals, reminding me of the black spots on the sun’s surface when changes occurred in its magnetic field. I grabbed a fire poker and used it to break down the remaining coals in the pit. Change was all around, and while nature acted and reacted, created and adapted, I noted I had never seen anything wild conform.