The forecast for Charlottesville was partly cloudy, with showers at noon, when we set off for Monticello.
I’ve wanted to return to the home of Thomas Jefferson for as long as I can remember, having some magical memory of a day spent exploring the estate in my father’s company as a young girl.
And so, ever faithful that providence, together with science, would support me, I set off with my family to visit the fabled estate.
There are times in your life when you must see, when you cannot help but see, your intentions and desires are not going to be satisfied. That the fates have determined you must pursue a different course, that you must alter your plans, and accept what comes instead of what you expect or plan for.
That day, on the road to Charlottesville the sky blackened. We drove on, checking the weather again, reassured there would be partly sunny skies and warm weather. And yet, the skies opened in such a torrent that we couldn’t see the way forward, and the rain continued throughout the day. In the end, we weren’t able to tour the property, the house was shrouded in a kind of gloom, and we were so soggy we could not bear to visit the museum or shop, because of the air conditioning.
So much for the forecast.