Rain: All washed out

It reminded me of an afternoon Manila, Philippines monsoon rain.

The kind of deluge that happens so fast you have to balance a bamboo rucksack on your shoulder while walking with flip flops in three feet of street water. That really did happen to me once upon a time.

But here in Fayetteville, Texas it wasn’t initially the rain itself that was most burdensome. It was the length of time that the torrent continued: through the late afternoon well into the evening.

There were rivers and rivulets greeting each other awkwardly for the first time as new neighbors.

During a relative respite I dodged rain drops to try and take pictures of the event. But it was too blustery. I did see a myriad of insects and animals running for their lives. A good sized spider drowned on the concrete slab, caught in a wind driven wave. A cricket was doing its best to both float and find someplace to hide: no not there under my truck’s tire tread.

A couple of young locust each managed to attach itself halfway up a tire: great minds think alike.  A good sized moth had frantically jostled with the wind, coming to rest on a window partially protected by a sheet metal overhang. A late season wasp tried to maintain its dignity by remaining erect wherever the wind and rain took it.

The ones who made out best were the toads on higher ground, ensconced in their little high-grass protected cave.

Eventually, near midnight, all the wet and wind subsided and everything breathed a sigh of relief. Me too.

A day later most evidence of the tumult had disappeared, sponged by the black gumbo soil.

As often happens a few birds came to play under blue-sky in an orphan, modest puddle out back.

Fastidious characters they couldn’t have been visiting so soon for a shower, could they?