Forest spirits.

It's storming when I leave work, raining hard, thunder rumbling every few seconds, lightning flashing somewhere in the near distance. I've got my umbrella, so I stand in the parking lot and revel in it for just a moment, taking it all in: the deep gray, the low clouds, the cool wind.

And then dread. The dog. The dog will need to go out and pee, as I'm sure she hasn't done that all day. She also hasn't gotten the exercise she needs. What will we do? Wayland isn't home yet, so I will need to take the girls out with the dog. It will be wretched. The dog hates the rain and it takes forever just to get the girls out the door. Plus dinner needs to be made and I have no idea what it will be.

When I get home I swallow the rising swell of stress rolling over me and ask the girls if they want to go for a rain walk. YES, they exclaim, enthusiastic. We don't worry about shoes or raincoats; we just head out the door in 20 seconds flat. A new record.

I anticipate Violet being afraid of the now more distant rumbles of thunder. She isn't. I think Mad will be cold in her shorts. She isn't. I think the dog will refuse to go outside. She doesn't. The girls both just run through the river of rain raveling down the curb, kicking up water, shrieking with joy. The dog tries to pull me faster down the street.

When we hit the trail I'm actually relaxed and the girls are no less joyful, running full tilt to puddle after puddle. Madeleine runs to me and ROARS, and here comes the stress - I think she's going to pretend to be a jungle cat, which always freaks Violet out, but instead she says, "I'm TOTORO!" And Violet laughs. "Are we forest spirits?" I ask. YES! We bend down and raise up from our knees, extending our arms high into the air, roaring the whole time. We are helping the trees to grow, here in the rain. Thunder rumbles and I laugh. "Maybe we can control the storm," I say, and we all roar at the sky.

The dog finally pees and we make it to the bridge, where we look at the spiderwebs tattered and heavy with droplets of rain, illuminated from behind in gray light. The girls run the course of the bridge - we have it all to ourselves in this weather - and look for spider egg sacs tucked into corners. We see all sorts of bugs taking refuge from the rain on the underside of the bridge railing: spiders and aphids and even ant lions.

"This is wonderful," I tell the girls as we head back home, and we are smiling. We talk of warm baths, cozy PJs, and soup and honey bread for dinner.

Life is just this good sometimes, and so surprising. All that dread and worry I felt driving home evaporating in just a second, stepping out into the cold rain, embracing the gray skies and the moments this rain afforded us, three fearless forest spirits controlling the elements.