Dixie Cup of Rain
Rain came after the full moon, keeping us inside. Maybe that's why Nepali believe it bad luck to travel on certain lunar days. I didn't tell him this. I let him book the cabin he was so set on, despite its sparse availability. Had we followed superstition, we'd have traveled on that rainy day, spent the subsequent in sun and forest. But we drove down with the full moon, rain in tow. A steady drizzle from dawn to dusk. I geared up for our hike with a poncho; him with water, snacks, sage, a fully-charged battery and probably a backup. The forest rangers and their orange cones halted our muddy Subaru tracks. "Trails closed 'til tomorrow," they grunted from trucks, exhaust vanishing into cold fog. Law enforcement, along with the elements, nudged us back inside. Inward. To a landscape presenting more challenges than treacherous, icy trails and all day downpours. Or so I'd be...