I lost count how many days it’s rained here at The Firewood Temple, though I never actually etched it on the walls. When the first rains began, I said to myself, “Wonderful! This will reduce the dust and the thirsty trees will finally get some water!” It was October 16th when we covered the firewood and machinery in hopes that after that rain, it would go back to what we had come to expect during the last five years of drought.
Fast forward to March 6th, it’s raining here again this morning. The pounding of rain on the roof woke me up and it feels as if it will never stop. For months, I haven’t seen daylight here and the forest could have crashed down around me but I’d never know it. At night, when I’m able to drive to the RV, I look into the blackness of the road Rob carved out and it’s almost haunting.
When you see those movies about the settlers of the early 1800’s, isn’t it in the winter when the elderly and sickly child passes away? I lost my sick child in the dead of this winter and I’ll never forget it. Thankfully, I have been working long hours since his passing and I don’t have cabin fever but I see how that could happen easily.
I know this is magical thinking but I call out, “This is the last rain of the season right?!” I can really see how a settler of yesteryear went mad and walked out into the forest never to be seen again. Doing the math, it should stop raining in 25 days or so but it doesn’t matter since I’m heading east in 19 days… This too will pass