Saturday

Water


The first heat wave of summer is here with temps in the 90's yesterday and more promised for today. The shade from three old and lovely maple trees is doing a great job helping cool down the house.  And any breeze coming across the pond does the same.  But I did find myself almost staggered by the heat yesterday when I became sandwiched between the sun and a large patch of parking lot asphalt while in town.

One of the on-line zines I sometimes read headlined the water problem the US is having by using a photograph of two African women crossing a ground so totally sun-baked it had turned into puzzle pieces.  They were both carrying pots on their heads that I hoped were water-filled.  I have long admired the grace with which certain African women carry pots on their heads.  That grace, along with beautiful beaded jewelry and brightly colored flowing clothes, creates an elegance often missing in our own public places. Places like parking lots.

Somehow I do not think these two African women would consider our country to be in the same shape, water-wise, as their own.  Neither do I, even with the fires burning in our more xeric landscapes. All the same, I know our water is at risk and at risk from many hands.  But we still have time, and certainly the inclination, to protect what we have.  I hope we can.  I hope we do. The cooling breeze from the pond is a sweet sweet thing.  As is the water from the spring and and the babbling bounty of a meadow-crossing stream.  We still have these things to enjoy. These two African ladies do not.

Last year I saw microscopic images of water molecules that appeared to change according to words.  They appeared to be responding to language.  Today I think maybe I'll whisper my thanks to the water in the pond.  To the water in the stream.  Foolish notion to many I'm sure but today I don't care.  My business as an artist is the business of imagination.  And to free the imagination often requires foolish action. And is taking the chance of talking to water really that more foolish than talking to our local politicians and bureaucrats?


Hello Water, I've come to thank you and read a poem considering your loveliness.  How's that for a start?