Wasted Time

The rain is falling in sheets as we make our way along the treacherous road that takes us deep into the woods and the unknown.  Soon,  you will close the door to the yurt, and I will be left to fill hours.  I am confident for others these hours would be considered wasted time - alone in the forest in the pouring rain.   But not me.  These are golden moments where the intrepid explorer in me, camera in hand, attempts to capture the mood.  As I point my viewfinder skyward,  raindrops fall surrounding the delicate fern in a manner that reflects the late morning and this experience and,  I think to myself, this time is anything but wasted.