It was a gray, cool day, and by the time I'd finished my writing and house tasks, a steady rain—a blessing, to be sure—had moved in. If I was going to walk, I was going to get soaked... so, of course, I grabbed my raincoat and my waterproof Fuji and headed outside. I hiked the old route, the one past the God-awful development, which I still have trouble looking at, and towards the millpond. Except for the gentrification of part of the field en route, this section hasn't changed too much, so once I get past the suburbs, my blood-pressure goes down and my depression begins to abate. When I actually get near the millpond dam and into the woods, well, all is more or less good. The highlight, these almost-midsummer times, is the blossoming of a curious wetlands plant known as Buttonbush. The flower buds are actually round, like old-fashioned buttons, and when they come into their spherical glory, they're magnets for bees and butterflies. Not so today: all the pollinators are in hiding. The observer may have no sense, but the potentially observed are staying dry.