It rained all day in Clark Fork. My hosts, Jess and Chad insisted I stay another night if I didn’t feel like riding. But after waiting it out a bit, I ended up hopping on my bike and getting soaked. After all, today was prime milkweed planting time — the rain is what naturally fixes the seeds in the soil. I found a spot at a marshy edge of Lake Pend Oreille, a remnant of a great lake whose water was contained by massive ice sheets 10 to 20 thousand years ago.
Upon planting the seeds, I improvised a melody with lyrics that went “come a run through the marshes with me, come a watch the sun run through the clouds, come a run through, come a run through, come a run through the marshes with me.” I like to think that with the voice, there’s an exchange going on between me and the marsh. That is, it’s not only humans who can access a melody. The marsh, the seeds, maybe even the clouds can too. It any case, feels so good to sing in the rain!
