In the rain
27/06/14 07:42
I am listening to the rain on the roof of the camper as I write this morning. It rained most of the night. They don’t call it a temperate rain forest for no reason. Those giant trees take a lot of water. When we lived in Boise, Idaho, where a tall tree is 50 or 60 feet high, we used to travel to Portland, Oregon often. Our Conference Office was in Portland and my sister and her family lived in Portland as well. I used to say to my kids when we would get into the trees that soar well over 100 feet tall, “See those things? They cal them trees. That’s what happens in a place where it rains.” It was a deliberate exaggeration, of course. My kids knew what trees were. But they were growing up in a place that claimed, “360 sunny days each year.” And the claim was nearly true. With an average rainfall of 11 inches, there were several years when we saw 7 inches or less of precipitation, most of which fell as snow. What makes the Snake River plain a lush area with lots of fruit and other agricultural output are the extensive irrigation systems that have been installed by generations of hard working people. The moisture to grow the crops comes from the rivers that are fed by melting snow in the mountains.
Back in Idaho, they love to argue about water. We had an irrigation canal in our back yard, but we could never get permission to take a little of that water for our lawn and garden. In fact there is a federal court house in Twin Falls, Idaho that is completely devoted to water rights disputes. Armies of lawyers and paralegals and clerks and others earn their living by arguing the cases of those who have water and want to protect it, or don’t have water and want to get some. Those arguments will continue for generations. It is good job security for the lawyers.
I’ve never lived in a place where there is lots of rain. I’ve always lived in places that would be termed “semi-arid.” We learn to conserve our water and use it carefully and we appreciate every rain shower. When we began our ministry in North Dakota, one rancher advised Susan, “Every time you pray, pray for rain.” It was good advice. We learned also to never complain about rain, even when it came at inconvenient times, such as in the middle of wheat harvest or when the hay was down in the fields.
Our visits to places that get a lot of rain have tended to be during the dryer parts of the year. We’ve seen some of the great downpours that occur in Costa Rica, and we’ve been in our share of rain showers in the Pacific Northwest, but we haven’t spent weeks and weeks when it rained every day. I know that seasonal affective disorder, an emotional illness that comes from too many gray days in a row, can be a serious affliction for those who live in this part of the world. Almost everyone here takes some form of vitamin D supplement “just in case.” Perhaps the rain would get to me after a while. I like to do all kinds of outdoor activities and many of them are more pleasant when it isn’t raining. On the other hand, I suspect that I would acquire some good rain gear if I lived here. One of the products of my visits to this part of the world is a wonderful rain jacket that breathes and isn’t too warm. I can put it on, pull the hood over my cap and go for a walk in the rain without getting uncomfortable. I suspect that after a few more visits I will end up owning a good pair of rain boots, though my hiking boots are waterproof and serve to keep my feet warm and dry when I venture out on rainy days. It is fun to walk in the woods in the rain. The canopy overhead catches part of the rain, so that there are places where you can stand and be sheltered by the trees. In other places, the rain collects and then falls in streams instead of droplets. The rivulets cross the ground and form small waterfalls when they encounter rocks and drops. And you get to meet creatures that we don’t know in our more arid home. Banana slugs, for example, don’t visit our yard at home. Here they are not hard to find, even on a dry day. Just turn over a few rocks, and you’ll find them in moist places.
People have been living in this part of the world and thriving despite all of the rain for tens of thousands of years. They have adapted clothing and gear and homes that keep them comfortable even in the rain. A few days ago, after a brief shower, our son commented that he hadn’t realized that it had rained. I said, “That may be the sort of thing that only we tourists notice. For those of you who live here, small showers probably occur and you don’t even know it is raining. You have to be from a dry place to recognize rain when it is a light mist and only lasts for a few minutes.” It is true that the locals don’t slow down for the rain. They don’t bother with umbrellas unless it is really pouring and they just go on with their lives in the rain with no disruption.
One of the joys of traveling is all of the different places that one can visit. The rain reminds us that this is a different place than our home. So do the trees. And, of course the magnificent water of the Puget Sound reminds us that we are in a coastal place. It is not our home - at least in this stage of our lives - but it is a wonderful place to visit.
And with grandchildren growing up in this place, we have all the incentive we need to visit often.