A lowly sign

We had substantial rain during the morning, as forecast.  Mary Lou, developing the radar skills of a nowcaster - someone who predicts weather within the next 30 minutes to 2 hours, tracked the storm movement carefully, watched the trailing echos edge past Cambridge, and predicted the end of the rain and sufficient clearing for an afternoon at the barn.

So on our bikes we went, but following the paved route through the city rather than the gravel path along the river.  At about the fourth or fifth substantial turn, near the end of Izaak Walton Lane, I saw it.  A sign, an omen.  A slug, yellowish-green, on the wet pavement.

To the casual eye, unnoticeable amidst the abundant debris and garbage.  Even to the observant, just a slimy invertebrate.  But I, consumed with hopes and speculations while trying desperately to avoid too high hopes and wild speculations, saw the portent and meaning immediately.  Answer D: It is written.  You can tell which movie we enjoyed last evening.   

We did get to the barn un-dampened, although we crossed through some big puddles along the curbs and in the underpasses.   It rained briefly as we unpacked, donned boots, and set out the horse gear.  And we heard thunder often during the afternoon.  But overall, as Mary Lou predicted, we had a dry and pleasant afternoon.  It is written.