Spring in the Pacific Northwest is known for its rainy season that brings with it wind storms whipping errant branches past my face on morning hikes as I descend into the dark rainforest trail along our windswept rocky coast. It’s eerily quiet at first, only the loud plopping of heavy raindrops dripping from the needles of tall Fir trees onto the toes of my muddy boots, the brim of my hat. Then out of the quiet mist a musical, gurgling croak can be heard – the unmistakable and opinionated ramblings of a curious Raven. I walk and she follows and talks. Storms and power outages are long enough to burn beeswax candles until they are spent and sputtering – their light flickering then fading across the pages of a book I’ve curled up with while sheltering indoors. The window panes rattle and whistle as wind sneaks in. When the storm passes there is a calm in their air as the cat relaxes his whiskers and melts across the arm of the chair closest to the fire. I imagine the animals of our forests emerging after storms, lapping at raindrops on my windows, and inhaling deeply, filling their lungs with the restorative power of rain.
Rainy day Raven SOLD (commissions welcome)
Rainy Day Wolf SOLD (commissions welcome)
Rainy Day Raccoon SOLD (commissions welcome)
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