An Indian summer day in October, a good friend, and a sack of half-ripe apples and Nestle Crunch bars. Running, laughing, playing tag in the orchard. We finish our apples, and pick some more. We go on until we come to a fence. The rusted barbed wire is lying, barely above ground, where a post has fallen over, just like a tree by the shed. Laurie says we should cross the brook.

"But there isn't a bridge and it's too wide to jump."

"We can use the fence by the log."

At that moment the sun glimpses out from behind the clouds and shines on a piece of wire by a log that had fallen across the stream. We cross the creek, laugh and play some more as we wander farther into the woods. It begins to grow darker near the tops of the giant redwoods. A light rain, a mist-like quality that can't be described. The sun peeks out again as we decide to turn back. A sight never before beheld, and never again. The raindrops, with sunshine glistening in them, shine on the path we were following; just like the past sometimes illuminates the future. Sunshine in the rain.

Graphics by Moriah's Web Jewels
©1981 Karen A. Freeman