I am sure by now you are probably aware of how much rain has been pouring down on our heads here in Texas. We are soaked to the bone and some of us are under water. My poor cracked and useless swimming pool, useless because five-years-plus of drought has shrunk the soil and cracked the cement in the cement pond, is now full of water again. The ground under it is so saturated that even though the holes are still not repaired, the water has no place to go. At least the North Texas area we live in is now greener than I have ever seen it this time of year.
The grass needs cutting desperately since I have not had a rain-free day to cut it in so long. The upshot is, I need the sun to come out. If you have been reading my blog of late, a serious mistake that some people are willing to commit, you may have noticed how down and depressing my writing has been of late. I have been writing about how the insurance pirates have been wounding me deeply in an economic sense. I have written about dead people talking in the cemetery in an Our Town sort of scene gone completely weird. And yesterday I wrote about dealing with my own childhood victimization through grisly Middle Ages-inspired death-art. I have reached the low point in the valley and decided it is now time climb the next mountain. I need my sunshine back.
So, today, the sun came out. Even better, the forecast for the next week has rain chances down around four per cent. The ducks have come back to our pool. The songbirds have returned from wherever they’ve been hiding. The world is cheering up. And in spite of problems with arthritic limbs aching, book publishing going in super-slow-motion, financial doom looming above me ready to swoop down like an avenging eagle at any second, and numerous other things that are hard to turn into humor, the sunshine has restored my smile.
Catch a Falling Star 