The rains fall and the creeks rise and we ride, kayaks and canoes. Spring is the season to ride, the rains make the falls flow and keep us from having to do summer’s work of walking the boats over slippery shoals. I have never fallen out of the boat, I’ve eaten many a branch and bungle of hanging foliage, but I have never tipped a boat, even one stranded on the rocks. But, I have so many times fallen when I have been forced out and onto the rocks. I’ve smashed my knees and cut my legs and gone under in two to three feet of water so many times.
So we pray for spring’s storms’ rain – and deal with a little thunder and lightning and an occasion strong wind. It makes the river run, strong and deep and safe.
Life seems so much the same of late. I feel the reverberations of atmospheric collisions, I see the flash of conflicts come and coming. But, soon comes the downpour and its flooding, surging, propelling waters.