Rippled waters appeared through my office window this morning. Thunder crashed, lightning flashed–weather radar lit up with bright reds and yellows. A line of storms slowly passed overhead, but not before dumping excessive amounts of rain. That was in addition to rainfall during the night. A stream flowed across the back of my house. It formed a confluence with a “creek,” near the palm tree at the edge of my yard.
Reddish-brown water, colored by dirt from the construction project next door, contrasted with green grass. Elated frogs formed a chorus line in the front yard to the accompaniment of cacophonic “ribits” and croaks. A tiny frog took up residence on my doorbell button. I foiled his plan to sneak in my front door. The drainage ditch in front has now become a mosquito hatchery because of excessive July rains.
The sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds. Three large pools of water remained in the backyard. My patio still has standing water. Soil has reached the saturation point. Please, rain gods, I beg of you–no more rain for the next twenty-four hours! Somewhere, someone else needs rain much more than I do.
It’s happened before–excessive amounts of rainfall in a short time. In 2005, we got twenty-two inches of rain in four days. That time, our street was completely underwater, from beginning to end. I think it’s the uncertainty and fickleness of the weather. “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” There’s nothing to do, but wait, and hope for the best.
In the meantime, Maggie, my mischievous mutt, decided to play in the water and mud. She allowed me to approach, then barked, and darted quickly away. Any closer and it was bath time–If she tracked mud in the house, we’d both be in trouble.