Birds in rain

I went out to walk up the river in the rain, but I made a critical mistake. I forgot my rain hat.

I had my rain jacket, which is pretty long and has a hood. So I thought everything would be okay. I don't know why I thought this. Maybe because a hood works at keeping my head dry. But I forgot the disastrous side effects of a hood. 

The hood should carry a side effects warning like so:

Rain hood for the use of keeping ones head dry in the rain. Side effects may include (but are not limited to) severe tunnel vision with visibility reduced to the patch of sidewalk six inches in front of ones feet. As hood saturates one will become functionally blind. Neck problems also common with long term use. Don't get wet.

What I am saying is that I walked two miles up the river more or less blind. Every rare once in awhile I would pull my hood off and look around. "My god!" I would cry. "The world is beautiful beyond belief. Truly October is a wonder!" Then my head would get wet and I would hide back in my hood.

It was a hateful walk.

I wrote a blog post in my head about it. It was all about being damp, and cold, and late, and molding. It was a list of disappointments I can no longer remember now. And it all led up to how I didn't even see any turkeys.

I was plodding along composing this misery prose to myself when I suddenly noticed that the rain had let up. I peeled off my soaking hood.

There were, to my surprise, turkeys everywhere, all around me. I'd actually wandered into a flock of turkeys while complaining about how they were nowhere to be found. Wet, iridescent, and bronze in the rain. Giant, steaming, and faintly phosphorescent. My heroes, foils, friends, and muses. Turkeys, turkeys, turkeys, turkeys.

And I thought "Well there's that ruined too."