Wet and Wonderful

It's like birth:  when the baby arrives, all that pain is instantly forgotten. 

So be it this morning as the sun shines and the birds chirp on this day after way too many rain showers to count. 

At least, I have pictures to remember the gloom at times and the wet, wet, wet at others. 

Like wet dogs looking like scroungy mutts one minute and all fluffed up and beautiful after their baths, the earth's surface and all growth is clean and fresh this morning. 

Wet can be miserable but wonderful too, just as the moments in between showers yesterday when the sun would instantly peek through huge, billowy, dark clouds to showcase the thorough wash job on the earth's surface:  vibrant colors against the wet backdrops.  

Loved those moments yesterday, but also kept vigilant for the first drop of the next shower because the rest of the drops came quickly, often accentuated by wind and definitely wet, wet, wet. 

That rainy day in between two glorious, sunny days seemed long at times as I stayed inside, wanting to be outside. 

At other times, however, moments zipped by quickly, especially when the phone rang about an hour after Bill and Willie had left for a day of fly fishing in Montana.

"Dad forgot his reels," Willie told me. 

"Where are you?" I asked.

"At the Hereford," my son said.

The Hereford has been there forever, it seems, a few miles across the Montana border and near the Bull River.  It's the restaurant along Highway 200 always known and easily found by the big sign with a Hereford bovine out front. 

"Do you want me to meet you there?" I asked, knowing that the guys know I like to go for drives, especially when it's raining. 

"No, we'll meet you in Clark Fork," Willie said.  Of course, this made sense as it would make my drive shorter and give them something to do while Mom was bringing the reels.

"Make sure the rain jacket is in the black bag," Willie said before punching off. 

Well, I found the reels strewn on the bed and pulled out the clothing item inside the bag to make sure it was, indeed, a coat.  A wooden net lay on the bed next to two bags and the reels.  

"Better take it all," I thought.  

Just as I was putting my shoes on, Willie called again. 

"Have you left yet?" he asked.  

"Nope." 

"Bring the net too," he said.

"Got it," I said, and within minutes, I was on my way.  Twasn't long before I pulled into Clark Fork just off the Lightning Creek bridge where Bill and Willie were parked. 

We made the exchange.  

"Guess you'd better make the most of it after this," I said as Bill grabbed his stuff and grinned.  

They went their way.  I went mine, stopping off once at Trestle Creek to take pictures of the lake and all its surrounding wetness. 

Once home, I watched a little baseball after bringing in wet dogs, bathing and fluffing them all up so they wouldn't look and smell like scroungy dogs. 

Not good for the Mariners and their season opener in Texas on this rainy day in North Idaho.  Their baseball ship ran astray of a win, as did King Felix who has never before lost an opener. 

Oh well, the NCAA National Championship men's basketball game surely made up for the Seattle loss with the most exciting ending ever.  Bill walked in from fishing just in time to see the magical last-second 3-pointer which won the back-and-forth battle with North Carolina for Villanova. 

Bill said he and Willie did not get TOO wet while fishing the Thompson River, just like they didn't get TOO many fish.  Waters were running a little bit crazy for fish to chase after flies.

Still, they had a good day.

And, today looks like a very good day.

Happy Tuesday.