Occasionally there'd be a let up, the sun would peek through and I'd think "I'll still have a rose or two for the Fair." Then the rains came again. By Fair day, I had only a few bedraggled blooms to enter in the competition.
We have had the hottest, driest summer on record in my part of the world. Creeks have dried up, warm waters in the rivers threaten the fish, fires have consumed hundreds of thousands of hectares of forest, reservoirs have dropped to dangerous levels. I could not complain about the rain. It was desperately needed.
The summer has been a dry spell for me on the writing front as well. The flow of words has dwindled to a trickle, imagination is sere and dry, motivation is stagnant and confidence has evaporated.
On Fair day, I entered the hall without much hope, but, in view of the weather, the judges were lenient. They forgave the odd torn petal or rain spot.
My rose bushes have recovered and I now have dozens of blooms to choose from -- just too late for the Fair!
While a tiny part of me wishes the rain could have held off for just a few more days, my better instincts give thanks for the rain and rejoice that rivers are flowing freely again, that the fires are finally under control and that, like the Psalmist, we give thanks to God for watering the land.
As I gather the wealth of blooms from my rose bushes, I marvel at the wonderful world God gave us. Devastation turned to beauty in a few short days. I take hope. I pray God will restore the gift of words to me as surely as he restored the water to the earth. Nevertheless, Lord, "Thy will be done."
iAliceValdal lives in Beautiful British Columbia Canada Visit her at www.alicevaldal.com or at facebook.com/#!/alice.valdal.5
P.S. The Man for Her is on a free kindle promotion on
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