I do love a good storm, especially when I can lie in bed and listen to the hiss of raindrops falling on the brick patio below my window. But during the past week, as the rainfall pushed toward ten inches, my passion for stormy weather began to fade.
A small locust tree halfway down our back hill fell over in the saturated soil. The clothes never got quite dry, hanging down there in the basement. I began to think about large boats and pairs of animals. Sara, our friend from New Orleans, was beginning to feel like The Flood Jinx.
So being able to see tonight’s sunset brought joy well beyond the delight of a gorgeous evening sky. This small community of sunlit clouds and blue sky sang of hope and possibility and trust. After days of flood control, chilling damp air and low-slung sooty clouds, we have been reassured that, as Dame Julian noticed all those years ago, “… all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.”