Water, Water
A great, dark Gulf Coast thunderstorm rolled through yesterday afternoon. Lightning flashed. Thunder rolled. There were booms and cracks all around. The rain fell in torrents. It felt as though the entire Gulf of Mexico had come to the land. Then, when it finished, the sky cleared behind the passing storm, the ditches ran full of water, and the air was cool and clear. I felt at home. I’ve missed those displays since my move to the hill country.
Of course, water was one of the reasons I headed north a bit. The floods would come too, especially because we lived south of the great metropolis, closer to the Gulf. It was lowland, and sometimes the water wanted it back. And sometimes it got it. And woe betide those standing in its way. The water rose and did water things and the great inland seaway appeared ready to reestablish its dominance, even though it was last here millions of years ago. It appears water never forgets.
But now I am living higher and drier and maybe drier than I’d like. Although all around me are the remnants of that old seaway. So, maybe one day it will come back. But for now, we’re just dry and dusty with mesquite and scrubby oaks, land pushed up high and toward the sun, and when the sun wants its due, it gets it. And there’s an old fight, sun and water. I live in the land of the sun, and I’m visiting the land of water. And it’s nice to move back and forth between the two and share their memories of the places they once ruled and hear of their plans for the future.