The summer is a tough one for trying to write. One just wants to be outside taking it all in and that includes during the ferocious storms we have had of late. "When the oats ripen the storms come." that is what Rick related and damn, the minute I saw those blue green fields show heads the deluge came. It flattened our garden, washed away our soil on the the sloped miniature field and even had the nerve to dampen our basement.
In the morning on a couple of days I had to go out and prop up the corn, return soil found awash in the driveway and remove the flotsam in the strawberries in the front yard. One inch of rain in 15 minutes, three different times only hours apart. The sky fell out of the heavens.
All in all it is exciting standing on the porch watching the light show and marvelling at display knowing we are not really in charge---"Mother nature always bats last." In fact, the thought that hit me the most was wondering just what folks did when what they grew was what they ate. No grow, no eat. The destruction of these storms, while not complete, certainly was a reminder of what first farmers used to go through when Mama Nature let loose.
Ya, I'm not sure self subsistence is all that easy but mine will recover to see another day if only I could part company between the broccoli and the last remaining rabbit, the one that has gone nocturnal.
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