Pounding Mist

Although not exclusive to New Hampshire by any stretch of the imagination, seeing the impact of torrential rain on a body of water is truly a sight to behold. At least, that’s how it is at Nutt’s Pond on a stretch of the South Manchester Rail Trail.

As I stood, feet damp, hands clammy from the moisture in the air, I looked out over the pond — the sheer force of the rain falling against it caused the pond to look as though it was being covered by a thin veil of fog.

Observing this neat display, I happened to notice a bird flying in the grey skies above me — off in the distance. I imagine it must’ve been hard for any animal to take flight in such conditions.

Come to think of it, when do you ever actually see wildlife while it’s raining torrentially? I assume many people would be too preoccupied with getting to any form of shelter as a means to escape the rain to notice.

In fact, the only reason why I noticed was because I had made a brief 15-minute stroll to the local grocery store. When I went in, it was fine — the weather was sunny with a side of clouds —  but when I exited, rain. Large amounts of rain.

Ahhh, the pleasures of living in New Hampshire — a place where the weather in nature can be so bipolar in its temperament — so volatile, so extreme.

But I’m not being sarcastic when I mention “the pleasures of living in New Hampshire.” I truly enjoy the challenges of each season, whether that be the sweltering heat and humidity of the  summer to the agonizing frost and treacherous ice, snow and slush of the winter.

It reminds me of what it means to be alive — to truly live. Common sense would tell you that you don’t need  to experience hardship to know you’re alive, but one cannot know what the good times are without having experienced frustrating ones.

Having said that, I’m interested to hear what the seasons relative to New Hampshire mean to you, whether you love them or hate them. Make sure your opinion’s heard in the comments to get a conversation going!

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