The day begins and ends at the pace of bliss, nothing rushed, everything flowing. We live too few days at this pace, I think. Few enough to forget that such days rarely play out according to a conscious plan. We take a meandering hike with heavy packs to Lower Blair to do some climbs, but just as we get geared up it begins to rain. We sit out the first half of the storm under a leaning rock on one side of the valley, then switch to a small cave on the other side when the wind changes. Olivia, whom we are dogwatching for Kate and Mark this weekend, seems to enjoy snuggling into the little cave with us just as much as bounding through the fields. It rains enough to get the rock really wet, and it looks like more clouds are on the way, so we shift from climbing to hiking mode. A circle around the souteast side of Blair gives us good trail and encompassing landscapes. We’re tired enough when we arrive back at camp that the lack of climbing feels fortunate, and the slow, rainy afternoon feels like a gift.