Puddle Jumping

We are in the throws of the precarious days of April, when anything can happen, and today it happens to be snow.  Our minds and hearts are set on spring, and yet when the sky opened up it let go of the white flakes that we associate with winter, offering us the perfect excuse for grumbling and complaint, until we look at the big picture.  This white blanket of cold and wet is what our parched mountains are craving, desperate to hydrate, the dried grass in need of anything that will turn it from tinder to actual living ground cover.  We have experienced a March of sparks flying and flames fanning to life from a simple spit on the ground and the quenching precipitation, though it be snow is tantamount to a gold strike, and this is only the beginning.  Our every other day conflagration needs to turn into an every other day long, wet, life giving, forest saving drenching.  So let’s agree, when we go to bed at night, the prayer we say is sunshine on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday and all the water we can get every other day of the week.  Then wear your rain gear with a smile and realize that you are part of the solution.

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