When the Rain Comes

Some mornings make it easy to get out on the river. The sun is shining, the water is calm and the forecast looks just about perfect.

Then there are mornings when the sky is dark, rain is on the way and staying home sounds like the better idea.

Not long ago, I spent a couple of hours going back and forth about whether I wanted to paddle. Rain was expected, and everything about the forecast told me it would be a good morning to stay off the water.

But I kept thinking about the river.

Eventually, I loaded the kayak and went anyway. I figured even if I only paddled a few miles, I would rather spend part of the morning on the Silver River than sit at home wishing I had gone.

The river feels different when rain is coming.

The greens look deeper, the reflections are softer and everything seems a little quieter. Places I have paddled past hundreds of times can look completely different under a gray sky.

There are usually fewer people out there, too. The conversations, splashing paddles and passing boats fade away. You start hearing the smaller sounds instead. Rain touching the water. Drops falling from the trees. Birds moving through the brush along the shoreline.

I planned to paddle about four miles that morning. I was not looking for anything in particular. I just wanted some time on the river before the weather got worse.

Along the shoreline, something caught my eye.

Near the edge of a floating grass mat, I noticed a juvenile Green Heron standing on a fallen tree.

Young Green Herons look quite a bit different from the adults. Their brown and cream streaking blends in almost perfectly with wet branches, grass and the darker parts of the shoreline. If you are moving too fast, they are easy to paddle right past without ever knowing they were there.

This one nearly disappeared into the tree.

I stopped paddling and let the kayak settle. I did not try to move closer or make the bird do anything. I just waited and watched from a respectful distance.

The heron stayed right where it was. Its feathers were still wet from the rain, and the soft light brought out details that probably would have disappeared in the bright midday sun.

For a few minutes, it was just the heron, the sound of rain and me sitting quietly in the kayak with my camera.

Nothing dramatic happened. There was no chase, no sudden burst of action and no rare animal coming out of the woods. It was simply a young Green Heron sitting on a fallen tree.

And honestly, that was enough.

I almost stayed home that morning.

Had I done that, the bird still would have been there. The rain still would have fallen, and the river would have kept moving along without me.

I just would not have seen it.

That morning was a good reminder that not every trip has to be spectacular to be worth taking. Sometimes the best part of being on the river is noticing something small that you might have missed on a busier or brighter day.

Of course, there is a big difference between paddling in a gentle rain and going out in dangerous weather. Lightning, strong winds and severe storms should always be taken seriously. No photograph is worth putting yourself in danger.

But when the conditions are safe, a little rain can show you a side of the river that you do not always get to see.

We have a habit of waiting for everything to be just right.

Clear skies. The perfect temperature. More time. A better opportunity.

Sometimes, while we are waiting for the perfect day, we miss a pretty good one.

The river never promises that every trip will give you an incredible wildlife encounter. Sometimes a manatee rises beside the kayak. Sometimes monkeys move through the trees. Other times, all you get is the sound of rain on the water and a young heron sitting quietly along the shoreline.

That is more than enough.