Rain

The roads around here are coated with a gritty, salty, layer of slime. A nice steady bit of rain, as we are having now, is wonderful at starting to wash away a winter's worth of dirt. I like walking in the rain too. The sound of the rain on the leaves is just a wonderful background sound.

Other simple things that I like today:

• I'm continuing to recover from a bout of back pain
• I haven't caught the nasty bugs that have laid low the rest of the folks who live here
• The newspaper got delivered before 4:00 AM, so I could read the Journal over breakfast
• Did I mention that my back doesn't hurt as much today as it did yesterday?

A wonderful poem, by Louis Jenkins, heard on the Writer's Almanac:

Every fall before he goes to sleep a bear will put away five or six
hundred dollars. Money he got from garbage cans, mostly. Peo-
ple throw away thousands of dollars every day, and around here
a lot of it goes to bears. But what good is money to a bear? I
mean, how many places are there that a bear can spend it? It's a
good idea to first locate the bear's den, in fall after the leaves are
down. Back on one of the old logging roads you'll find a tall pine
or spruce covered with scratch marks, the bear runes, which
translate to something like "Keep out. That means you!" You can
rest assured that the bear and his money are nearby, in a cave or
in a space dug out under some big tree roots. When you return
in winter, a long hike on snowshoes, the bear will be sound
asleep. ... In a month or two he'll wake, groggy, out of sorts,
ready to bite something, ready to rip something to shreds ... but
by then you'll be long gone, back in town, spending like a
drunken sailor.

Used without permission, I'm sorry to say.