Tuesday, September 06, 2011

My Pond is Gone

I haven't been to my pond since May, partially because of CPE, but mainly because it's been so beastly hot. Hottest August on record, they say.

We got a cool front. It will be gone by this afternoon, so I pulled on my shoes and as soon as the children were out the door, I slipped out. Ah. Sweet coolness.

I got there, walked down the hill ...

My pond is gone.

I know they say this is one of the worst droughts we've had in decades, but it still hit me like the cliched ton of bricks. Where I used to watch minnows swim and see the occasional splash of a larger fish, is a field. Only a puddle remains.

I walked around the far edge, toward where the water was deeper.

Splat! A bird pooped on my head.

"In some cultures, this is considered good luck," I muttered grimly, wiping it off.

I walked farther. A bit of the pond remains and it was filled, filled with cranes and ... pelicans? Not pelicans, but some type of pink bird. Which means it has come from some place else.

My phone rang. It was the husband. His best friend and his family just had to evacuate their house from the wildfires to the north of us.  More wildfires are burning through the state park where I went to so many family reunions. The small town where my mother grew up during WWII.

One of the top search strings that leads people to this blog is "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away." For a panentheistic, process-theology, Jesus-inspired UU, that works just fine. We are interwoven in all of that, and yet there is also a power far beyond our control.

I continue walking ... it's possible to do that, with a broken heart.

I walk down to my favorite little part, where the turtles used to poke up their heads, then furiously splash away if I blinked. My turtles ... Now, it is just dry, cracked earth.

I turn the corner and a giant bunny, as big as my fat old cat at home, bounces across the path and into the woods. I've never seen a rabbit here, and though I know it speaks to the dry conditions, still, I am thrilled by the gift.

I go home. I take a shower with clean water. I go to my refrigerator and cold, filtered water fills my glass.

I drink it, reverently.


Maggie said...

On my desk I have a quote that I wrote on a sticky pad. It reads "Do not grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form." I have no idea who said it but sometimes I find it comforting. May you have rain soon. And until then, may your pond come round in other forms...

Rebecca said...

Sad about the pond. Lots of prayers that homes are saved and the fire is under control very soon. I just watched something on television about that today.

hysteric cleric said...

That sucks; I'm sorry. (OK, so it took a minute for the suckiness of the bird poop to sink in - I had to stop laughing first.) That moment of schadenfreude aside, I'm sad to hear about the pond; I know how special that place is for you.

A friend of mine has the theory about the drought: he says that Tlaloc, the Mayan god of rain, is punishing El Norte for the US government's anti-immigration policies. (Of course, this friend is an atheist, so....)

Jeleryl Comisky said...

I was also shocked by how the pond transformed into a dull grassland due to the drought. I hope that, someday, it would all turn back to a beautiful pond with blooming flowers and roaming animals around.