The rain catches us halfway through a mountain meadow walk. Unless accompanied by a wind, Aki never reacts to rain. Today shower doesn’t stop her survey of this familiar trail. I understand. It comforts as it falls amid snowflakes. True, the heavy drops shatter mountain reflections in the meadow ponds. Yes, the rain soaks my gloves until they chill the hands they cover. But, it also washes things away: irritating plant seeds, dust, and some of the sadness I carried since learning about the death of a friend’s child. Don’t hunch protectively in such a cleansing shower. Stand and let it wash freshness over your face like you would tears.