This is the beginning of my poem “Great Pond”. I visit Great Pond State Park frequently, as it is a five minute drive from my house. So when Anna and I took a rain hike there today, I felt like I should post from the poem I wrote about an epic hike we took there one time.

Great Pond  

I am dressed for a hike
In the sunlight.
My gear is made for a crisp 
November 52 degrees. 
Long sleeve dry weave, 
Solid hiking pants. 

5 minutes in it’s raining. 
Sure the shirt is wicking water, 
But it’s not made for the heavy stuff. 
And 52 in the rain is different, 
Than 52 in the sun. 

The rain stops. 
I step along and look up. 
Contrasting cloud greys: 
Dense scudders looming dark 
Against 
The eggshell white background. 

5 minutes later 
More rain, heavy at times. 
I laugh as the dog and I  
Are getting soaked. 
I laugh because I believe we should laugh 
Humans should laugh 
When we’re getting soaked, 
Especially if it’s 
On a relatively warm day 
And a car not far away. 

Even if it’s 2020. 
Especially if it’s 2020 

5 minutes later it’s hail: 
Small pellets,  
Hat bill clickers, 
Rock tickers, 
Ricocheting off trees onto me. 
Not big enough to hurt the dog. 

Again I grin,  
A little more fiercely, 
Since unannounced winter is here. 

Want more? The adventure continues in my book Self of Steam available from Amazon!