crickets and rain

"I wish I could take pictures of sounds" Molly Hunter K. said with a sigh as she clutched her Nikon camera and followed me down the red brick path lined with lush greenery that stretched a few feet above our heads. We were on our way to our favorite spot in Colonial Williamsburg to enjoy the first moments of dawn. The drizzling rain provided the perfect morning mist while our feet splashed through shallow puddles that consisted of both rain and dew. Dancing raindrops bounced off the leaves of the trees before rhythmically falling and splashing onto our faces, and the crickets sang as if welcoming or maybe forbidding the rising sun. As light slowly and defiantly embraced the darkened sky, clicks from the shutter of Molly's camera seemed to echo among the vibrant hues of green -- forest, emerald, mint. The historic streets behind us were empty and quiet, allowing our soundtrack to occupy all space.

No, the pictures on Molly's camera definitely won't do this moment justice; they can't capture the melodies of the crickets or the drum of the rain.

As the rain came down harder, so did our laughter. Despite the dreary weather, which seemed to be straight out of an Austen novel (Marrianne, anyone?), or perhaps it was more Bronte-esque, we giggled with girlish bliss mixed with a bit of embarrassed shame...but just a fraction. Adolescents, still, no matter how hard life tried to make us grow up. "I wish our high school selves could see us," Molly said offhandedly with a touch of sarcasm. No doubt, our high school selves would never have anticipated we'd still be visiting the worn stairs covered in ivy five years later. I'm sure we thought we'd have much better things -- more sophicsticated things -- to do with our time. But here we were: hair soaked, umbrella ditched, black and white pictures galore, humming "Dawn" from the Pride & Prejudice motion picture soundtrack, and admiring cobwebs that shelved shimmering droplets of condensation. We really hadn't changed all that much, Molly and I. Sure, the topics of conversation shifted-- college, new relationships, missed opportunities, future dreams that suddenly (and dauntingly) seemed a lot closer. But us as girls? We were the same. Still as romantic as ever with a rather large flare for the dramatic.

Right now, I'm thankful that I'm 22. Young and free. Free to do these types of things -- by "things" I mean waiting for the sun to rise at 7am on a Monday -- and not being too caught up in apprehension or reputation.

all photos taken my Molly. Go visit her blog here. Go go go!

don't forget to listen for the crickets and rain in your own life....