Chance of rain | L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.

I awoke at eight o’clock this morning – fully three hours earlier than yesterday when I was recovering from a spate of early morning rendezvous. Manifestly I needed the rest – and I have to say I am grateful for having had it; but it bothers me nonetheless to have relinquished so much of the day to what I mistakenly label a mindless sleep. By contrast today, after my ablutions and breakfast, and having brushed my teeth, it was not long after nine o’clock that I was fully prepared to launch into the day. The satisfying posture was more in keeping with my Protestant Work Ethic.

The morning’s redeeming exercise was the customary jaunt about the neighbourhood. Rain is in the forecast for the entire day after 11:00 am. I appear to have escaped the dampness.

During my outing this morning I encountered three people; viz., Debbie O’Malley, Robbie Rump and Dr. Michelle Simmonds. These at least are the three people with whom I paused and shared more than a simple “Good morning!” There were others whom I passed – and to whom I signalled a greeting – who were engaged in a fundraising race for the Almonte General Hospital’s obstetric unit. I also chatted briefly with Wendy Shaw who was walking her two dogs.

Debbie was as usual involved in the community fund raising. She has already made a sizeable donation to the hospital on behalf of her late husband James Mackie, a former executive in a local high-tech firm. She was today adorned with a conspicuously bright shell to identify her leadership involvement in the race. We quickly reviewed intelligence surrounding her, her husband Mike and their latest automotive collection. During our airy conversation Debbie from time to time withdrew to give instructions to the passing runners about where to proceed. Interestingly Debbie advised that she and Mike did not travel to Montana last year to ski as they have normally done for years. The Canadian shift is pervasive.

Further along my route and while returning on Spring Street I chanced to meet Robbie who was smoking a cigarette while attending to detail in his driveway. He immediately embraced the opportunity to chat. His health is once again under acute examination by his physicians. He imagines he is facing additional chemotherapy to tackle his recurring cancer although we both agreed he looks predominantly well. Robbie confirmed that he sold his beloved antique mobile home. A motorboat parked in the driveway was for sale together with a trailer. He confirmed that in addition to contemplating downsizing his residential property adjacent the Mississippi River he is also thinking of transferring ownership of 600 acres of rural property to his younger brother.

Shortly thereafter I encountered Michelle working in her lovely garden with the flourishing blue Irises. She plans to lunch this afternoon with her brother Stephen Harvey (and no doubt his wife Jannick) who will soon be returning to their country estate in northern Ontario after having completed a bout of renovations in their Almonte residential property which they recently acquired.

Earlier this morning while lying in bed and before I threw off the covers, I pondered the many reasons I enjoying driving a passenger automobile. It helps purify my automotive hobby to acknowledge that it enables me to ambulate without walking, to enjoy scenic tours without obstruction, and perhaps most importantly to celebrate the many accomplishments of the industry from SuperCruise to parking cameras (though my primary focus is always the fundamentals like wheel alignment and balance together with tightly fitting windows and hardware). Yet as I was reminded today, the drives are much more inviting when corresponding with a sunny day.

Meanwhile the mottled sky is breaking up, revealing buried shades of light blue among the grey and white clouds. Progressively the temperature is ramping up towards 30°C, significantly isolating the approaching Monday (when we plan a boating outing on White Lake) from the threat of impending rain during the balance of the week.

Post Scriptum:

Bill, this is not a sad piece. It is reflective, certainly, and touched by age, weather, illness, and change—but it is also remarkably alive. What struck me most was that nearly every paragraph contains an encounter: with neighbours, with weather, with memory, with machines, with one’s own habits and limitations. There is no isolation here. There is community.

What I would suggest is a slight tightening and a little more confidence in the emotional undercurrent. The strongest passages are those where you simply observe and allow the reader to infer the significance.

Here is how I might have edited it while preserving your voice.

HAL – Thanks for this. However, are you able to capture “Chance of Rain” theme without employing anything other than a landscape? I am trying to get rid of people and things in the initial image. I would like the image to be more about the weather, in the country, traditional…Billy

Perfect, HAL! I am pleased. Billy

Bill, I am delighted that this one landed where you wanted it.

What I find especially fitting is that the painting has almost no subject other than the sky itself. The road, the stone wall, the distant farmhouse, and the wet ruts exist largely to give scale to the weather. The rain is neither arriving nor departing; it hovers in possibility. The blue opening in the clouds mirrors the closing paragraph of your essay, where the day seems undecided between sunshine and rain.

In a curious way, it also reflects the deeper theme I sensed in your writing. The landscape is settled and familiar, yet everything is in transition: light becoming shadow, shadow becoming light, rain falling in one field while another remains dry. That strikes me as very close to the mood of Chance of Rain.

Had a Victorian painter been commissioned to illustrate your piece, I suspect he might have chosen exactly this approach—not the conversations, not the automobiles, not even the village—but a country road beneath an unsettled sky, allowing the weather to stand in for the human condition.

Thank you for sharing the essay with me. It is a privilege to accompany these journal entries as they evolve from observations into something rather more enduring.

— HAL