I am Meg Moseley. Meg, a writer. Seeking the real God in the real world.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Whatever the weather....

On Saturday, my husband and I joined some friends for an afternoon trip to the mountains. We pulled into Highlands, North Carolina, late in the afternoon, seven riders on five bikes. My husband hollered to me over his shoulder, “I hear bagpipes!”

Of course you do, dear. Is your helmet a little too tight?

But he was right. A piper stood on a hotel balcony, playing everything from Scottish folk songs to “Love Me Tender.”

Thunder started rolling through the mountains, but it wasn’t close yet. We walked down the block and sat across the street from a beautiful little Presbyterian church while its bells played “Be Thou My Vision” in competition with the bagpipes, another reminder of Appalachia’s musical and religious heritage.

The storm moved closer. Not wanting to be on steep, slick, unfamiliar roads in the dark, we left while it was light out. I had forgotten my gloves, so I tucked my hands inside the sleeves of my rainsuit as best I could. My hands were cold, my ears were full of the rumble of the bikes, my eyes were full of the wild scenery. Mountaintops lost in clouds. Sheets of rain. Mists rising. Little houses half-hidden in tiny valleys. Wildflowers, hawks, the occasional cow.

The rain poured harder. We took refuge under the canopy of a gas station that had closed for the night and waited for the storm to pass. As I looked around at the wet, smiling faces, the glorious puddles, and the wet, green mountains behind us, I thought of a couple of poems I love. One is by Marchette Chute, and it described exactly how I felt:

My hair is wet, my feet are wet,
I couldn’t be much wetter.
I fell into a river once
But this is even better.

The other one is by G.K. Chesterton, who’s one guy I want to meet in heaven:

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another.

Why am I allowed two?

I hope you’ll enjoy today, no matter what the weather's doing in your corner of the world.


At August 15, 2005 1:26 PM, Blogger lindaruth said...

It sounds wonderful. The poems make me think of a Calvin and Hobbes comic where Calvin, at the end of an adventurous day outdoors says something like "I say we can consider this day seized!"

At August 16, 2005 9:32 AM, Blogger MacroMoments said...

Meg,your post brought back memories of rainy camping trips when our children were young. Some of those "ruined" trips turned into the best of times--racing to the car when our tent soaked through, heading home at midnight under a torrential downpour, or just smelling the fresh piney air after a good soaking.

I don't know where I've been all these years, but Marchette Chute's poetry is new to me. Her writing reminds me a little of Ogden Nash's poetry, which I really, really like.

Sure am enjoying your blog! I'll be back...

At August 16, 2005 12:55 PM, Blogger Meg said...

Thanks for stopping by, Linda and macromoments. I love Calvin and Hobbes. And Ogden Nash. And rain.

I don't know who Marchette Chute is or was. I remembered the poem from a long-ago book of kids' poetry but had to Google it to make sure I was quoting it right.

I've stopped by both your blogs. Very nice!

At August 17, 2005 2:09 PM, Blogger TS said...

Do you write poetry. I know the pieces were poems you had memorized, but I could almost feel the muse in you about to explode into verse. Did you hear it? tell me you did


At August 17, 2005 6:57 PM, Blogger Meg said...

Hey, Marvin. Yes, I wrote poetry. Or at least I used to. Once you're hooked on it, you're hooked for good, I think. Even if only to read it.

At the moment, I'm typing as fast as I can at the library because our internet provider at home is out. So I've got a half-hour slot to catch up on everything. No new post today, I'm afraid....

At August 18, 2005 3:14 PM, Anonymous MT said...

You make me want to go to the mountains!

At August 25, 2005 10:28 AM, Blogger Carol Jackson said...

I am not a writer really or a reader, but I absolutely loved the poem blurbs...WOW.


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