I no longer have to worry about my house flooding should the little creek escape its banks. It is not entirely impossible for my house to flood - simply because I know to NEVER say never. It would take an apocalyptic amount of rain falling in a very short time on already saturated soil to flood the new house. As long as the rain comes in waves, the water rises, roaring in a downhill blast out of the valley, but subsides to a benign flow in a matter of hours.
I am not complaining about the rain. The long term drought left an ugly mark on me. I am not complaining about the invasive trees encroaching into my pasture - at least not right at this very moment. Their roots are holding the earth together and slowing the unimaginable cumulative amount of water from draining directly into the creek. I am celebrating the lush, green cover of tall grass and prairie plants and weeds firmly anchoring the soil. I am imagining the underground water levels rising in my well though I must exercise restraint. There is a multitude of disgusting things on and in the ground that water contacts on its journey into my well - snakes, grubs, horse manure... you get the idea.
The return of the rain is most pleasing. The familiar splashing beneath the open windows and the constant rushing of the little creek mean I am home.
|Every spring there are different flowers adorning the prairie.|
|The rains bring an abundant and verdant prairie.|
|Nothing but green...|
|An overflowing pond - something impossible for the last several years.|
|Every season there are more Missouri Primroses on this bare bank. My favorite wildflower.|