"There's no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes." So says my husband.
Sunday afternoon. Pouring rain eases to a steady drizzle. We shrug into raincoats, pull rain pants over our jeans, and put on waterproof shoes.
We're the only humans at Tod Inlet. Dozens of gulls perch on old pilings, impervious to the soft patter of droplets on the water. One gull rises, flaps to another perch and forces the gull sitting there to move on. He, in turn, chooses an occupied perch as well, in spite of quite a number of empty spots. Fun to watch.
One raindrop trembles on the end of a bare branch just beginning to swell with the promise of growth.
Tim's on a week of vacation. Nothing special is planned, but today we drove up to our house in Parksville. The one we couldn't sell two years ago. It's been rented, but it's on the market again.
Rain poured down as we drove. The rain thickened - a mixture of rain and snow. Splat, splat went the wipers.
Before turning homeward we went for a walk along Englishman River Falls. Mud squelched. Rain dripped off the trees. Water rushed over the falls. Such a variety of water sounds.
Bright emerald tiny ferns poke up from the moss. In spite of the cold wet and the snow lying in the forest, spring is on the way.