Rain, Rain, Go Away

Do you ever feel the “gods” are out to get you? Or, maybe, they make things difficult as a way to amuse and entertain themselves because, well, they have nothing better to do with their time?  That’s kind of the way I felt this past weekend when I went out to do some photography.

We’d had some storms move through the previous night (the same storm system spawned numerous violent and deadly tornadoes in the eastern part of the country), but the forecast was only calling for cloudy skies with only a slight chance of rain the next morning when I was planning to go to Pinnacle Mountain State Park.  When I got up and left the house, the sky was cloudy exactly as predicted.  So far, so good.

It was still dark when I arrived at the park, so I waited in my truck until it was bright enough for me to see where I was walking.  As I sat there, I began to hear “pop. . .pop,pop. . .pop” – the sound of raindrops hitting the windshield.  My radar app showed a few little spots of rain around, but they didn’t seem to be anything to worry about.

Finally, the light came up, and I grabbed my gear and headed about 40 or 50 feet down the trail where I found this Yucca plant off a small unpaved trail.  I’d attempted to photograph it on some previous visits but was never satisfied with the results.  This time, I slowed down and studied the plant from different angles and discovered this composition in which I positioned the camera directly over the top of the plant.  What I really like about it is the way the leaves radiate out from the center and how the brown leaves caught in the plant create a nice color contrast with the leaves of the Yucca.

As I was about to finish photographing the plant, raindrops began falling again.  First, just a few, then a few more, and then a few more.  Again, I pulled up the radar on my phone to see a large area of rain not far from my location moving toward me.  I headed back to my truck to decide what to do next.  As the rain began falling harder, I decided to head to a location about 10 miles south of Little Rock that I hadn’t been to in a while, and there was no rain anywhere near.

As I drove to my new location, the rain stopped, and I was feeling pretty good about my chances. . .until I got close to the exit just before the one I needed to take.  The rain started again and, this time, it was harder than what it was when I left Pinnacle Mountain.  I had no rain gear with me (I was expecting any rain), so I decided to turn around and try another location that I’ve been to a few times before over the years – Holland Bottoms Wildlife Management Area.  It’s a location that’s just a few miles from my house and, most importantly, the radar showed no signs of rain anywhere close.

The entrance has a gate that is normally closed from March 1 to August 31, so I was surprised to see it was open when I arrived.  I pulled in, parked, and grabbed my equipment having no idea what I might find.

As I walked around the area, I happened to look down and saw a couple of splashes of green from some new plant growth that was pushing its way through the fallen, dried up, decaying leaves around it.  After the brutal winter we had just gone through with snow, single-digit high temperatures, and wind chills in the negative double digits, it was as if Mother Nature was quietly telling me that Spring is here.

Just as I got the camera set up, it started to rain. . .again. . .for the third time.  Granted, it was a slight rain, and I could have continued to photograph in it, but I had become rather annoyed at this point. I quickly pressed the shutter button to photograph this small scene and, deciding the gods had amused themselves enough that day at my expense, I called it a day, packed up my gear, and went home to live and photograph another day.

As it seemed to have been all morning, once I got in my truck and started heading home, the rain stopped again. I guess they got the last laugh, after all!