Camping in the Rain

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

A view of the start of Appalachia at sunset

The thing about

camping in the rain

is that when the rain stops

you go outside-

and you are lighter,

the world is lighter,

the birds are singing again

and a little joy creeps back

into your heart

and you walk the muddy path

splashing just a little bit more

than strictly necessary

smiling like you never saw the sun

until just today

when it pushed its way

past the heavy clouds

and shined.

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Rain-soaked White Cave Path at Mammoth Cave National Park, where my boots got muddy, and I smiled to be back outside.

Tall grass flattened by rushing rainwater on the hillside next to the path to the historic cave entrance at Mammoth Cave

A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find that after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.

John Steinbeck

This trip was not what I expected. I expected quiet and peace and trails and warm nights reading by a campfire. What I got was a lot of rain. Thunder. Tornado and hail warnings. More rain. Flooded campgrounds. Then, periodically, the sun would come out and I would get out and go. It made every moment I spent outside really special. In Arkansas, I got to experience the warm steam rising from the ground at Hot Springs National Park on a cold day. In Tennessee, I got to run along the Mississippi River. In Alabama, I got to hike with my sister, Rita at a beautiful little trail system near her home. In Kentucky, I ventured into a deep cave (see last week’s post here) and came out with a resolution to face my fears instead of avoiding them, and I’m excited about that shift in my attitude. The trip wasn’t what I expected at all; but on reflection, I think it was exactly what I needed it to be.

Now I am home in Michigan, where all the spring flowers are blooming early. The air is cool and crisp in the morning, and the neighborhood animals (and the neighbors!) are making me feel welcome. I’m so happy to be here. Thank you for being here with me. See you next week.

a mass of lilies of the valley cover the ground in the woods near my home

Fall in Fanano (Italy)

Life is a combination of magic and pasta.

Federico Fellini

Fanano is a small town on the edge of Emilia-Romagna, just north of the Tuscan border. We were here just after the fall harvest of grapes and grains.

The first day, I wandered around the nearby farms.

A highland bull along my route just kept on chewing while he watched me pass (although it’s hard to be sure he could actually see me).

Not far to the north is the city of Modena, famous for its balsamic vinegar and fast cars- also the former home of opera singer, Luciano Pavarotti. I took a picture of the sign to help me find my way back to where I was staying.

The season was still changing while I was here - bees were sluggish, not flying from the Queen Anne’s lace, even when I was very close with my camera.

The vines were going dormant, with the grapes already harvested.

The sun, with all those planets revolving around it and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes as if it had nothing else in the universe to do.

Galileo Galilei

I loved wandering here, seeing the views of many small communities below me nestled in the hills.

Later in the week, the city of Fanano had an Autumn food festival, where local restaurants came to make dishes unique to the region; bands played, and lots of local wine was consumed.

The weather was unusually warm for October and it brought out the crowd. I’ve been to this town many times, but I’ve never seen so many people in the streets - and they were all eating, taking and laughing.

The band was really entertaining, inviting kids to come up and play instruments and involving the entire crowd in their music.

In another square some women reenacted the old method of stomping grapes to squeeze out their juice, while other local women sang in accompaniment.

Just after the women began to sing and dance, the sky turned dark and the air temperature began to drop. A sudden hail and rainstorm sent us all running for cover.

A rose after the hailstorm, surprisingly undamaged.

A view of the Corsini household (my husband, Tom’s, cousin) from above on our last day here.

Every house guest brings you happiness. Some when they arrive, and some when they are leaving.

Confucius

We had a great time here with Tom’s family, who took us in, fed us, and spent the week hiking, shopping and touring the local towns and parks with us. I feel really fortunate to know these generous people. Staying with them was a welcome rest after two weeks of hiking and moving around from place to place every day in Portugal and Spain. I hope I can return the favor someday.

Thank you so much for being here. I will see you next week!