Taking note: Downpour detour
It started with just a few tiny drops. It was the type of rain that falls so sparsely and gently that it makes you wonder if you might just be imagining it.
But then, the drops began to fall faster, just enough to confirm that it was actually raining.
I figured it would just be a sprinkle. It wasn’t supposed to rain.
However, before long, that light spray of water falling from the skies turned into a downpour.
I was headed east and looking forward to spending the afternoon outdoors when the rain hit.
I don’t mind a little rain.
But this was something different.
It was the kind of downpour that turns potholes and low-lying areas into dark puddles of unknown depths.
It was the kind of rain that windshield wipers struggle to keep up with, even at the highest setting.
It was the kind of downpour that leaves you soaked in an instant when you’re outside.
It was the kind of rain that promises to cancel outdoor plans.
But I was already so close to my destination.
I had been looking forward to this for days.
I stopped and checked out the forecast and radar for the area. According to the radar, it supposedly wasn’t even raining at this particular time and location.
I wasn’t quite sure what to believe about the rain after seeing that.
But I decided it was worth pushing forward.
I would wait out the rain by taking a detour down a long, forested road that wasn’t far beyond my destination. I could head that way until the rain subsided.
But the rain fell with increased fury, creating little rivers along the side of the road.
And although the rain was growing in intensity, large swaths of blue sky were visible in the north. The sun came out for just a moment, illuminating the wet road and all the steam and mist in the air.
It was almost blinding, but it was a beautiful sight.
Eventually, the rain became a light mist as I drove farther and farther down that forested road.
On a whim, I turned down an old dirt road with a sign indicating a lake could be viewed at the end.
I hadn’t ever been down this road. Or even heard of this little lake before. But I was delighted at what I found.
The blue-gray waters of the lake were unexpectedly vast. The water was framed on all sides by a wall of green trees.
The rain stopped.
I walked around the area, marveling at the post-rain greenery of the grass and trees. The trees formed a canopy over the small paved walkway, highlighting the vibrant green moss that lived at the pavement’s edge.
It seemed that this was where I was meant to be at the moment, even though I had other plans for the day before the rain hit.
And I found myself amazed at what can be discovered and enjoyed when plans change.
It’s easy to get caught up in one plan, one idea, one way of moving forward in life.
It’s easy to be disappointed, upset or confused when plans don’t work out as you thought they would.
But it’s also difficult to live and think in terms of dashed expectations and forgone plans.
It’s not always easy to be flexible, but it’s an easier way to live in the world and find happiness.
Our lives can become a little better when we leave behind our woes about what could have been or should have been.
Our lives get a little easier when we learn to adapt and find joy in the unexpected.
Our lives can be more peaceful when we accept what is, rather than focusing on what we believe reality should be.
We can find unexpected happiness in life’s little detours, even though they’re not exactly what we planned.
And when we look for the joy in life’s unexpected downpours and detours, we can find a smoother path forward.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Cecilia Brown is city editor at The Mining Journal. She lives in Marquette and can be found hiking if the weather’s nice, or curled up with a book if not. Contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.