It was a grey, damp, 39 degree morning. The weather for the last two weeks had left the ground spotted with puddles, and the gravel roads as mud traps. Twenty five feet of rolling on the wetter parts would render my bicycle un-roll-able. Water spilled from the pastures into roadside ditches. Then it poured into creek beds, sometimes roaring and sometimes only trickling. Places that normally would be ideal brew-up spots were unpleasantly soggy. But at least it wasn’t raining.
Most of the morning looked a bit like the photo above. But there was that minute or two when the sunlight peeked through a small window in the clouds. It was as if God’s hand had poured out color, instantly saturating the landscape. It was stunning to glimpse, only for a minute, such richness after so many days of grey. Then suddenly, as if someone had closed the window blinds, the world once again went monotone and dim.