Run the Earth and Watch the Sky: Back in Gettysburg

And then it rained. The lowering sky began to look threatening about the time we left the monuments, and by the time we reached the town of Gettysburg once more, the rain was pouring down, running down the windows of the car, and blurring the view of beautiful buildings. We sat happily on the side of the road then, listening to the rumbling of thunder, and the pattering swish of rain. I was so very grateful that the downpour had held off until we had thoroughly enjoyed the monuments; we had taken our time, peaceful, unhurried, and warm by the First Minnesota monument. Indeed we felt sorry for the soldiers in their wool uniforms in July, to speak only of heat.

The rain didn't last long. We enjoyed a bit of a respite, munching apples and nuts... talking a bit about what we had seen. I was thrilled just to watch the many colored buildings, and the shutters against the brick, through the drizzling rain. Somehow a rain, like few other things, makes me feel like I am really experiencing the place. It's a real place; it gets wet, just like everything else; some bits look worse after a soaking, and some look ruggedly the same; some brilliantly improved. Fresh: clean and refreshed. That's how it looked, afterward. And thunderstorms always feel like an adventure to me... I suppose that originated when I was little, and would play sneaking around the house in the dark, with the candles flickering, or just waiting for the power to go out...

When the rain stopped we got out and walked the streets, passed the houses and shops--all stone and spritely painted shutters and moldings. We went inside an adorable cupcake shop, all pink, (we didn't buy any though, seeing as we had Gettysburg-museum fudge waiting for us in the car anyway...maple-walnut, peanut-caramel, and butterfinger ;) Here's a picture of Jess and me in front of the cupcake place.