Blue Ridge Mountains, NC
These are the mountains of North Carolina — it rains here. It rains a lot. Occasionally, there is a brief period of warning, such as the sound of distant winds carrying the rains in my direction, or the thunder that looms far way, then approaches my tarp, but most often it just rains.
The under side of a tarp has no doors, nor walls — it is merely a roof. As such, it affords one the opportunity to look out in all directions and see that there is no front, nor back to a rain storm — it is all just degrees of middle, and all of it is wet.
While the students are out on solo, I am under their group tarps. There are a few tiny spaces that are sheltered, but, the lower of the two tarps has now sunk completely to the ground and is collecting a pool of water now approaching 15 inches deep. All that is missing is the goldfish.
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I’m sitting by the side of a small creek with my feet completely immersed in a hole I’ve dug. Like a child who’s shovel is his only toy, I’ve managed to cover myself in mud as I move dirt and sand from one place to another.
"Your making a mess!" I hear from the dark recesses of my mind.
"I don’t care!" is the prompt reply. I’m an adult now, and time has come to have some fun, even if I get muddy from my toes to my nose! The earth is full of dirt, and she delights in holding you deep within her arms! So go ahead — GET DIRTY!!
Copyright (C), 1998, by Ashley Guberman
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