Wednesday, September 09, 2009
A Celebration of Water...
This morning as my alarm pulsed at 6am, I awoke to a bright flash of light that at first startled me then made me do a quick reality check--had I really seen the flash or was it the crushing migraine ramping up in my head? Eyes tightly squeezed closed, the only bright lights I continued to see were the flashing dots behind my eyelids--this was one monster migraine.
I slowly walked downstairs and Brent asked if I had seen the lightening... why yes, I had.
It was raining and had been doing so for awhile, along with thunder. And I had slept through it all--amazing. I have heard deer as they walked through the front yard looking for something to eat. With the windows closed. I have heard the dog's thoughts of being forgotten in the dog yard and wanting to be let into the yard, in the middle of the night, and have awaken from a dead sleep to let them out. And yet I hadn't heard any thunder.
Overnight a front had moved through and slowed. After a 2 1/2 year drought, this rain was desperately needed. The earth had begun to crack, not even supporting the native grasses anymore; they were just clumps of skeletons that fractured when the wind would blow. The animals, especially the deer, lost most of their spring body fat and though had full bellies, their ribs and hips showed through their skin. And they were so thirsty. They came every night and drained the birdbath out front. Trees that have been in the ground for almost 10 years have died while other tree's leaves burned to a crisp from the unrelenting heat. And that's just in my yard.
As I drove to work 35 miles north from here, the weather vacillated between dry as a bone to torrential downpour--a typical Texas storm front.
All morning I sat and watched the rain from my desk as it trickled down through the ligustrum trees and was absorbed as fast as it fell. The skies grew dark and by early after afternoon the sun came and brightened everything. Drops of water were as crystals glinting off leaves, gravels, and rooster tails.
I could feel the earth sigh as she drank in the rain. On the way home it was as if everything had been bathed in a glowing light of clean--refreshed. The skies were bluer, the land was greener, and the air was crisper. There was water in creeks that had been dry for years.
A particular Texas Sage up the street was celebrating in full glory. She was a burst of lavendar and bees. She outshined all other sages on the block and I had to photograph her and her friends the bees. What a celebration!
Hopefully the drought is over. According to this map, we have a long way to go.