It started raining yesterday and didn't stop all day. The rain pattered, poured and pounded against the windows, doors and roof all night long. Add high gusty winds slapping against the house bringing down tree limbs and making the lights flicker ominously. In the morning, even though it was still raining, Jilly and I headed to the park. I suited up in my northwest basics, polar fleece and rain parka with a hood. Jilly, my darling yellow lab, is a 'water' dog, so I guess, she's always well-suited for the weather.
I expected to be soaked. I expected Jilly and I to be the only ones to brave the weather. I expected to see lots of robins, because of all the worms wiggling across the paths and swimming in all the little and not so little puddles.
What I found at the park was a bit of reality. There was a break in the rain and Jilly and I walked without getting wet. I wasn't alone, the regular walkers were all there, too. I saw many groups of geese, duck couples but only one robin.
Expectations are just that, expectations. I grew up with the mantra, "Expect the worst and you won't be disappointed." As a little girl, I hated that phrase my mother taught me over and over. It made me sad. Lucky for me, what I've learned after a few more years on this planet is that it's not true. What we expect...the worst...doesn't mean it will happen. Like, today, it didn't. And isn't that a very good thing.
There's still a lot of wiggling worms, I guess they're safe from the robins for now, anyway.
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