The rain is our constant companion on our path through the mountains, falling from a sky in velvet and white. The blossoms and broad foliage form a fresh green canopy but give meager shelter as we make our way through virgin forest and weathered rock sheaths, over shallow bridges spanning raging rivers, and plank roads wedged in windswept cliffs. Our trail consists of muddy water in motion and shifting soil beneath our feet.
There’s nothing to enjoy about this refreshing downpour of springtime. Each drop soaks through my coat, through my skin, stealing the heat from my body a bit at the time, for days at an end. I curl my fingers in the soggy fur of my sleeves and slide my beads while holding on to the reins. Yet somehow there’s a strange comfort to be found in this rain and its predict
