This morning, when we stepped onto the patio, everything suggested that it had rained overnight.
The morning dew still covered the grass well after 9:00 a.m. Harper’s chair held a small puddle of water, something she didn’t seem to mind as she climbed right into her favorite place. The air was heavy with humidity, and every surface carried the dampness of the night.
Naturally, we assumed it had rained.
Wanting to continue documenting July’s rainfall, I walked over to the rain gauge to take another photograph for my records.
To my surprise, it was almost completely dry.
The evidence that seemed so convincing wasn’t evidence of rain at all.
The night before, Brian and I had gone inside earlier than usual because the air itself felt different. It was as if someone had gently misted the entire neighborhood, not enough to call it rain, not enough to leave obvious drops falling from the sky, but enough that you found yourself wondering if the rain would begin at any moment. The forecast had never called for rain.
This morning, Stella had chosen a different breakfast spot. Instead of waiting in one of her usual places, she stood quietly near the tall grasses on the north side of the puddle, closer to where Chuck the beaver is often seen. We settled into our chairs to watch, waiting to see what the weather, and our visitors, might bring.
As I looked around, I realized how easily I had accepted a conclusion simply because all the visible signs seemed to support it.
It reminded me that life often works the same way.
We see the surface and believe we know the whole story. We notice the outcome but never witness the process that created it. We fill in the spaces with assumptions because they seem reasonable.
Sometimes we’re right.
Sometimes the rain gauge tells another story.
Perhaps wisdom isn’t found in always having the correct answer. Perhaps it is found in remaining curious long enough to ask another question, gather another piece of information, or simply admit that there may be more happening than we can currently see.
Not everything is what it first appears to be.
And sometimes the quietest witness tells the truest story.
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