Rain - A Ringing Bell

There’s a low, deep rumble coming from the skies today.

It was there all through the long dark night, too.

Our weather boy informed us at 4am that it had already rained a good many inches, that the lightening was indeed striking right over our home, and that there was no way he could sleep through such commotion.

He was gifted a weather system for Christmas, and it is mounted to the side of his high bunk. It’s connected to a weather reader outside, that sits fastened to our backyard fence.

We always, always know what the weather is doing.

Even at 4am.

The outside fury has caused quite an upheaval in our area. Schools have closed, highways are under water, people are in, bayous are rising.

I made french toast this morning. Because it seems like that’s what you should do when it floods.

My older two are sitting at the table working on math worksheets and whining about it. The younger one is running around, playing with a tape measure, and flying off the ottoman like a four year old hero.

More storms are on course and target for our area today, and tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

All this rain has me thinking about the world’s water cycle. How all the rain falling and filling and flowing in our area is the same water that fell on my long ago ancestors, and theirs, and theirs.

The water that is puddled on my porch right now might not be sitting in its first puddle. It might have been the same rain that slid down some thatch roof in England hundreds of years ago, or filled the cup of some king or queen somewhere, or washed down some river between high peeked mountains someplace, sometime.

It’s wild to think that the same water that quenched and drained and washed and replenished the earth a crazy number of years ago, is the same water that falls on us now.

Wondering where all the rain has run and rested is sending me.

Let yourself get lost in the awe of it all today, imagining where the water’s been.