EAT, WRITE, DIGEST: Dampened

Wet, wet, wet. Three inches of water in the rain gauge not once, not twice, but more. Water rushes at Minnehaha Creek, washes through farm fields, shuts down the interstate highway. The hard-working farmers could lose their crops. The foolish could lose their lives.

And in other parts of the world, children die for lack of water. Rivers are diverted to make arid land spit out crops that would not grow there on their own.

I think of that as I feel a clump of too-wet garden dirt in my fingers, as I fight with the way my hair kinks in the humidity. Too much rain. Too little rain. Both are bad for humans in some way. I think of the huge crop of mosquitoes all this rain will unleash, hate the size of the welts I get from mosquito bites. I wonder about West Nile virus, how many cases will be documented in people and horses, how many dead birds I will find in our yard.

And yet the sound of the rain on the roof during the dark night still lulls me to sleep, still sets up its steady wet rhythm. Pat-a-pat-a-pat. Each flash of lightning from slow-moving storms pulls me to the window, each rumble of thunder and rush of wind fascinates me.

I will try to be grateful for this house that does not leak, this skin that is not cracked for lack of moisture, for the lettuce that is thriving in the container garden on my deck. I will not chant, “rain, rain, go away,” because if it really did, it would be so much worse.

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10 comments

  1. Oh, oh, that's my blog post header: Rain, rain, go away (and come again another day).

    Yes, it would be worse without rain.

    A State of Emergency has been declared here in Faribault due to the rising Cannon and Straight rivers. Some sandbagging is taking place. After the flash flood of 2010, the City wants to be prepared.

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  2. Innundations are becoming a fact of life in Britain too. Our normally wet islands are getting wetter it seems — so far so good this summer but last year took its toll in some parts and the year before in other parts. It is as you say Kath — we must be thankful when the effects are merely inconvenient. Hope your summer improves and ours stays nice — but most of all World Peace.

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  3. I hear you. And having been through some horror droughts will ALWAYS opt for rain. We are much more likely to get incontinent pigeon rain (splat, splat and it's gone) than a deluge.
    I do hope that your rain is easing off though – and that the damage can be contained.

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  4. Mother Nature is notorious for being a word that rhymes with itch.
    This is true, and we must buck up and carry on….with an umbrella.

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  5. For once Wyoming seems to be in balance, not in a terrible drought state and not flooding either. I'm not a fan of extremes, fire makes smoke which irritates my asthma, and floods give me flashbacks to living back East and watching the rivers rise, and rise. Glad you found some comfort in the sounds of rain. Wishing you some sunny days ahead.

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