She walked on water

Betrayed by Season (again)
The forecast said 30% chance of afternoon storms on Friday so we headed to the river. We would stop for breakfast along the way. Tom would cast for trout and I would get out into the fresh air, hike along and cast on for a new sock. Knit while waiting.
Snap a few digital pictures and just enjoy the beauty of the day. I haven't ventured very far this season as the weather has just sucked. It was time to get outside.

Arrival at his chosen branch of the river requires stepping into the ICY cold, spring-fed water to cross immediately. (Because the fishing is better on the other side?) Whatever. I had made my peace with getting wet at least up to the knees when I agreed to come along. The water has been too deep for my comfort this year. I usually fish too, but this tropical-rainforest season that has morphed our spring & summer into something so wet and unrecognizable for our part of the country, I refused to pay for a fishing license this year. I checked the State website and a one day permit was half the price of the full season fee. Screw that. I'll just knit, thank you.

3 fish were caught right away. 11 a.m. In the time it took me to knit 6 rows.
And then the sprinkles started. Wind came gusting down into the valley where we took shelter under a thick canopy of trees. And the distant rumbling (he tried to convince me were "just trucks going over the wooden bridge") continued. For half an hour we stood back to back against our pine protectors, even as we debated the dilemma of not standing under a tree in the middle of a forest during thunder. But it seemed distant and sky was lighter over there. Really. The sunshine would return soon. Sure it would.

To get back to the jeep (with a muffler that had suddenly gotten extremely loud 2 minutes before arriving at our destination) there was still a river to cross. Conceding defeat, we decided to make a run for it.

Two steps back into the ICY water and the loudest boom of thunder all day was followed by a river that glowed with lightening in the next instant.
Tom was a step ahead of me, holding my hand.
Reminding "slippery rocks".
"Go slow".

Except suddenly I'm two steps ahead of him, still clutching his hand but confused by why he needs me to help him along. In the instant of panic at finding myself in water while lightening was happening, I'm pretty sure I walked on water at least a couple of steps. I could have gotten the rest of the way to the other side, but for the hand that would not let go.
A deep breath while the panic receded and then we were across. It would be several more minutes before the heart rate would return to normal. Another 15 minutes of walking through the pouring rain.

Just as predicted, the sun was back out by the time we had the jeep halfway down the mountain. Betrayer!
Even the maple trees have started shedding their red fall leaves, as if they give up on this one. Fall is looming with a dread I don't remember ever feeling more.