Sunday

Spring Rains



Rain and more rain.  Torrential to drizzle this particular spring has been mostly wet and that is fine with me.  I read where carbon dioxide levels have reached an all time high and I figure the constant deluge may well be part of earth's mysterious cleaning process.  Why not?

A biography of water could suggest many useful aspects of hurricanes, cyclones, floods.  Useful as in purposeful.  Purposeful as in with intent.  With intent as in conscious.

Extrapolation may not hold up to our current judicial system's rather playful standards but circumstantial evidences are far from being gone from our lives.  The circumstance of rain:  the need for it at certain times, the beauty of it all the time.

Whatever the measure, a little or alot,  rain is always out of control.  Humankind affects it not in the least.  And that is, for me, deeply reassuring.  We measure:  we are creatures of the inch, the foot, the mile, the gallon, the fathom.  And because we measure so very well we in our great human haughtiness mistake the measure for control.  Not so, not so with rain.  Little wonder I love it as I do.