the flavor of a rainwalk

Sophie and I went on a rainwalk in the woods this morning.  Not heavy rain, just some gentle split splat, falling through the leaves.  We babbled along for a while, but the cool air and the quiet woods did their work on us.  Soon we were walking along in silence, looking around, maybe pointing at something of interest every now and again.

After a while of running ahead and doubling back, Sophie started a game of touching her tongue to the tip of various leaves, to catch the rainwater that pools there, just before it falls.  Half-kidding, I asked her if the taste changed on different trees.

“Oh, yes,” she said, immediately.  “Oak trees are strong.  Spice bushes are minty.  Don’t do beech, they’re fuzzy.”

Wow.  “Do you have a favorite?”

She thought about it.  “Sycamore.  They taste clean.”

The varying  taste of rainwater drunk from assorted leaf cups seems like profound information to have at your fingertips.

A minute later I saw her making a face and scrubbing at her tongue with her palm.  “Bad tasting tree?” I asked.

“No.”  She spat.  “Spiderweb.”

I’m glad she has the time to gather this knowledge!