Moments of clarity, attempts to focus, and questions to ponder in an intentional life
2008/05/20
Watered
Oh, now, that's better. That's much much better. Lilac leaves and luxuriant rhododendrons are supposed to be wet. Rain is needed on these plants. They just aren't made for the heat. It's not their fault. They can't help it. They're children of the region, and the region is wet. This is where a great and mighty Gorge with a river coursing through it is surrounded by rock walls of mountains that themselves run with water. Waterfalls. Water leaching from the edges of the earth in the places where the people have gouged out a place for asphalt, water running and dripping and flowing down into the highway's edge. With the short exception of the warmest part of the year, here is where even the rocks flow with water. So the plants are to be forgiven for hating the heat. Right? And the people whose deepest selves are rooted in this same soil - they're to be forgiven for their deep and thirsty need to throw open all the doors and windows once the sky remembers that its job is to send us the rain.
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