Bring on the Rain

During my visit to Washington, I was able to spend several days in Forks, visiting my cousin and her wonderful fiance. I was quickly taken aback by the dismal appearance of the small logging town, to the point that I wondered how long my cousin could exist there without losing her sanity, even with the passion of love.

But on the last day of my visit, I came to an understanding, even an appreciation for the nearly constant rain and the thickness of the wet, cold air. We hiked to Marymere Falls from a barely noticeable rest stop off the main road that leads into Forks.

As we walked, it was no longer the biting cold air that took my breath away, but the enormous trees clothed softly in moss, and the perfectly shaped wax-like ferns that crept from the fallen logs. The once-depressing grey sky now cast a greyness of hushed mystery over us and everything around us. As we stood on the bridge, the icy clear water whispered of the centuries that it had seen, of the endless cycle of life that it nurtured with its gentle flow. I remained speechless, unable to take in completely the wonder that encompassed us. Only an occasional sigh of delight escaped my lips.

As we neared the waterfall I could hear the quiet roar of the water and felt the mist on my face. Then it was in front of us, and I stared at the water as it fell perfectly, endlessly. Every living thing around the fall leaned toward the water, yearning for it. I was grateful to be able to witness this majestic, untouched creation.

While we walked away from the waterfall, my cousin shared a profound truth with me: none of the beauty around us would exist without the rain and atmosphere that continually sustained it.

And just as nature must endure the rain, sleet, snow, and frost, so we must endure with resilience the challenges and heartbreaks that life throws at us. The harder the rainfall, and the louder the thunder, and the angrier the lightning, the more beautiful and mysterious the soul it leaves behind to warm with the sun's rays.

Love

Love. It really can be just like it looks in the movies.

At first it starts out with meeting someone. The conversation is light-hearted, your senses of humor mesh easily, and you can't shake the feeling that you're communicating on a deeper level, even though nothing you discuss is very serious. You can't help but walk around with a little extra lightness in your step because he's always in the back of your mind, a light in your life.

Very quickly comes the giddiness. The flirting, the twitterpation. Everything he says is adorable or charming, or both. Everything reminds you of him: a pair of shoes that would look good on him, a meal you wish you were having with him, a love song that seems to explain what's happening in your heart perfectly.

Then he comes to mind all the time. He's the first one you want to tell everything to. You want to tell him about the crappy days and the exciting moments you have, too.

Then the difficult conversations come, and all you want to do is go back to the time when everything was wonderful and in a haze of bliss. But you discover that the hard parts are easy to overcome with him.

And the fear comes, too. The fear of what might happen when he eventually, inevitably discovers every imperfection and flaw you have.

But he never fails to reassure you. And just as quickly as the panic about your vices rushed in, the relief that your virtue is always foremost in his mind quiets your heart. The realization comes: he's not perfect and you're not perfect. But you're both perfect for eachother.