rainmaker

I did a post a couple of days ago about how much I didn’t like delivering the mail when it was pouring down rain.

That was before I “met a man who had no feet..”

Actually, I’m being silly with the “feet” comment.

My “second year of first grade” teacher and HERO (she taught me to READ…good grief!), Mrs. Spruance, wrote and said that she’d welcome the rain in California, where she lives.

It’s been crazy dry in California for a while.

When you live in an area that’s pretty wet, like we do, a little less rain is still a ways off from “no rain”.

So we don’t know what that’s like to be in a dangerous drought.

It’s a discomfort to deliver mail when the sky is dumping water on you…but not as much of a discomfort as it must be to look up and wonder if the rain is ever going to come again.

I try to pay attention to the weather.

Some of my “paying attention” I can’t avoid.

When the rain is hitting my head, I can’t help but notice.

There’s some wacky stuff going on with the weather.

Now, some folks would violently oppose the notion…the prediction…the forecast…that “climate change” is a reality.

“Stuff changes…and it’s not my fault” seems to be the underlying philosophy.

It’s a political issue…which is a weird thing to me. It must be a struggle sometimes, I think, to deny something just because it’s an idea that became identified with “what the other guys” believe

I really do hate politics.

I don’t know why it doesn’t rain some places very often anymore.

I’m not going to discount climate change as being the reason…even if I vote a certain way next election.

The “pessimist” in me thinks that we’ve had a big impact on this planet…and that we don’t seem capable, no matter how many Prius’ we buy, of slowing down the negative effect that our existence seems to have on the environment.

We need our stuff…and the stuff is worth the consequences of making the stuff so we can have it.

Besides, there’s always some place where we can dump our trash…and the breeze will blow and carry away all the crap we belch out into the air.

No worries.

I wish that it would rain some in California.

I should stop complaining about it raining here.

 

 

About Peter Rorvig

I'm a non-practicing artist, a mailman, a husband, a father...not listed in order of importance. I believe that things can always get better....and that things are usually better than we think.

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