The Finch Formerly Known As Gold

10 May 2006

Fluid motions

I'm taking it slow through Fred First's Slow Road Home, because I think he would have wanted it that way.

And I don't think he'd mind if I shared this little fragment, inasmuch as we're still a bit behind on the rain this season.

Floods are cataclysmic, sudden, drastic and evident in their consequences. Drought like this is chronic and insidious. It drains life invisibly, quietly, leaving no record in the sand of geology's time. But it is an abundance of water that has carved the hollow of the creek bed and made the valley wide — not water's absence. It is an abundance of water that has nurtured the broad-leaved forest that covers these mountain hillsides and allowed them to persist in this leafy biome. Drought has not formed this landscape, and it seems reasonable to have hope that it will not subdue it now.

We will miss the rains for a few more weeks, for maybe one more season, or two. But we must learn to see the cycles of wet and dry as the land sees it, and be patient. If history is any lesson, water will tell the story.

Fred's back east in the Blue Ridge, but it's just as true here on the edge of the west: water and destiny are inextricably bound together.

Posted at 6:19 AM to Almost Yogurt