I remember “all-day rains.”

My mother hated them.

My Dad trout fished in them.

Us kids survived them with the help of rubber boots, raincoats, books, card games, bug spray, licorice and Legos.

Karen Rose Wils

It’s the most relaxing sound in the world to wake up to the pitter-patter of rain on the camp roof. Safe, dry and warm, we were about to face an all-day rain at camp.

Camp for us was a small rustic cabin deep within the hard woods.

School had just gotten out for the summer. Now there was time for sleepovers and picnics.

Six little rose-colored noses pushed against the camp’s screen windows.

“Looks like an all-dayer,” Dad said, looking up at the leaden grey sky. His plans for firewood cutting, trail clearing and camp maintenance gave way to fly fishing.

Mom’s ideas of serving lunch outside on the picnic table and looking for wild strawberries changed to feeding the crew beneath the gaslight on the old oak table.

June bugs clanged on the window screens, and a zillion mosquitoes buzzed out there.

Fortunately, I was one of those kids who loved to be outdoors, and I wanted to follow Dad along the slippery river. No amount of Cutter’s could keep the mosquitoes away, and the raincoat only kept me dry for so long.

And the rain continued on!

Dad chose a fly that resembled a stonefly. I marveled at the lady slipper and jack-in-the-pulpit flowers.

And the rain continued on!

Dad caught a brown trout, and I saw a green leaper and a sand piper.

Back at camp, card games of thirty-one and Michigan rummy kept my siblings busy and Mom sane.

Hide-the-button was another game that entertained us for hours. In the small camp, six rumbunctious kids covered their eyes on the bunk bed while Mom hid the button in the kindling box or on a chimney stone or way up on the gun rack.

Then we all hunted it down with words of encouragement like “You’re getting hot or you’re getting colder.”

And the rain continued on!

Muddy boots lined the doorway, and wet clothes hung on the line. Mom often referred to Sunday — the day we usually went to camp — as “rain day.”

We never let a little rain slow us down. And the rain continued on!

June was wet and buggy, but the forest was lush and green. The river bulged at every bend.

All-day soaking rains seem to be getting very few and far between these days. Thunderstorms pop up wildly but are short lived.

Not only were all-day rains great for woodlands, but they were wonderful lessons in patience, creativity, co-operation and contentment!

A walk in the rain is just pure Yooper liquid sunshine.