My Bucket O’ Rain

Last week I started a sanity preservation project.  A tent in the back yard.  After many weeks of no rain, the tent created a cosmic disturbance which brought rain to a drought stricken land.  Torrents of wind, rain, and lightning I’m sure never came so quickly even to the shaman rain dancers of old.  After the first flood, I waterproofed with mildly carcinogenic aerosol spray guaranteed to create a barrier.  The next storm mocked my attempt to protect my sanctuary of tranquility.  It pulled up my stakes and felled in the roof, and the rain came, a gallon more than the storm before.  Once again, the tent stands erect and dry.  More storms on the way.  I won’t give up.

But there is something special about a bucket of rain.  Different than a pail of tap water from a city plant.  Reminded me of a song.  If I can’t have tranquility outside, this music helps while I’m stuck inside the box of bricks we call a house.

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