Monday, January 25, 2010

Lake Woe-be-gone

I am looking out into what used to be my yard, wondering if the dogs have drowned. Even the trees look shorter in this biblical flooding and there seems to be no end in sight. I'm trying to gather the courage to look in the basement but I don't think I've had enough coffee for that yet.
Or scotch.
Is god trying to tell us something do you think? I remember when I was a kid my grandmother used to say that god was crying when it rained like this. Apparently he went bowling before his crying jags because that was how she explained the thunder. Weird.
Certainly, there is a lot to cry about. The logician in me sees nothing to the rain except weather patterns and a sh*tload of moisture.
The metaphor-seeking Cretan writer sees the tears of a lifetime of spirits weeping for what the living have done to the physical earth.
Or...I see a not-so-subtle hint that if we can't wash ourselves clean, then somebody else is gonna do it for us. That means behind the ears and everything.
Well, I'm off. I think I'm going to nab the oars from the canoe in case the Scion starts floating down the highway.

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