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It is wet in Madras, Oregon and our weekend plans are ruined. We were headed to Smith Rocks for a weekend of climbing. But the rain is a special kind of gift. My mother is celebrating her new job and my father is celebrating his new house. I was trapped tightly between climbing with Lars and Anne for probably the last time (we have been planning this trip for months now) and sharing in these celebrations. I can be nothing if not both disappointed and pleased by the rain's sure decision. The rain has decided for me. So I will celebrate with my mother as she once again is given the title "reverend". I will go to my father's new house to bless his recent marriage. And when I find a quiet moment, I expect that I will turn my face southeast, toward volcanic towers and a small powerful river. |  |