After the Rain
It rained a Noah's flood here last week. Sunday, Monday and Tuesday were almost non-stop rain (over 5 inches in some places!) There were wash-outs on roads, downed power lines, rock slides in some areas, and roof leaks. It was pretty misearable weather (not destructive like the tornadoes that hit the midwest) but bleak and gloomy weather.
Because the climate around here is called "mediterranean" the weather warms up real fast. And after the rain came the sun, and with the sun came the heat. And after the sun and heat came the flowers...everywhere. Martha and I went out walking in a large field this afternoon. Everywhere we looked, bright new flowers were popping out, including the blue flower pictured above. It was so brilliant, it seemed unreal.
So, what's the big deal about blooming flowers? They bloom here after the rains. I dislike the rains. Rains make life messy and inconvenient. In rains you can't go on a picnic or work in the garden or take a stroll with the ipod (oh you could, but I don't).
But after every rainstorm come the flowers, all sorts of them. Hillsides explode and trees pop out blooms and buds. It's like the plant kingdom says, pour it on. Give us grey clouds, we'll give you colors of unbelieveable hues and shades.
My personal rains are dishonest politicians and leaders who disappoint us on a regular basis. It's business leaders who get caught in bribes and corruptions. It's church leaders who play party politics and do whatever they can to preserve power and privilege.
I so need walks outside, where the earth refuses to give in to despair and cyncism. The flowers do not care which party is in power or what new threat terrorists bring. They bloom with wild abandon and extravagent, unnecessary brilliance. They speak to me the truth that beneath and behind all the rain is a wellspring of unbridled hope.