The rain started last night, thrumming on the roof, gentle and rhythmic, soothing the tired mind into sleep. It was still raining when the alarm rang this morning. As I was dressing, groggily going over and over in my mind what all I need to make sure I have with me – rain sleeve, FroggToggs, boots with the liners in since it’s getting colder…
Jerry woke himself up enough to say, “Good luck, and have fun! But be careful, because it’s raining.” And so I mentioned that I had in fact taken pictures in the rain before. And he said, “Yes, but today’s different because it’s a fall rain.”
I can hear people rolling their eyes. I just about did too. But he’s right, you know. A fall rain might not be any wetter, but it is colder. Harder. Less welcoming, since it’s not about growing the crops anymore. A fall rain brings down the more of the remaining leaves, leaving limbs bare and skeletal, soaks into the ground one last time before the frost begins to penetrate the dirt and turn it stonelike.
But since I’d long since worked out the correct gear to wear, I was dry and relatively warm the whole walk. And visible too, of course. I’ll be wearing blaze orange probably the rest of the year. (Partly because it’s hunting season. And partly because my warmest coat is my hunting gear.)
And I’ve learned over the course of the year that sometimes the lens hood can be useful for keeping the rain off. You have to take care with it, though. See, if the hood you’re using isn’t the one meant for that specific lens, you’ll have interference, black shadows that no amount of vignette adjustment will fix. So if yours is one of those wavy ones rather than the solid ring, make sure it’s fully seated. Had to completely retake all of the seven-shot series for the panoramic at dawn today because I didn’t.