RAIN, OWLS, DRUNKS

Yesterday we took a hike in the rain. Me in yellow slicker coat, Sweetheart under an umbrella. The rain coming down hard. Hard enough to keep a barred owl still on a low beech tree branch, 6 feet off the ground, just blending in with the soaking rain. Only because I stopped and tapped Sweetheart to see the owl did it get bothered and set off across the road right in front of us. That great round head. A young woman was once very close to buying our cabin in the woods and we were settling the deal when a barred owl called as evening was coming on. It was summer chilling to hear the calls over and over. But this frightened the woman, who said she studied Shaman rites, not to buy the cabin.

Whatever

After the owl we came upon two fishermen returning to their pickup truck. Both drunk. One was loud and the other was goofy and a little sweet, so they balanced one another out. As we passed with a friendly wave, the loud one glared at us and blurted, "ANY fish in this RIVER?" as if we owned the river and his poor return was our fault.

Heavy rain, spooky owls, and drunks.

Bob Arnold has lived on the Green River almost 40 years and to the dismay of everyone when they ask if he fishes in the river and he says, “no”. He bathes in it.