Thursday, August 2, 2012

What a difference a day makes....

We say that all the time. It is an anthem of short-term hopefulness--that things can get sunny and bright, that luck can change, that the stars will align, that the Mandela of Life can swing quickly to our good. What a difference a day makes.

But I saw it in a remarkable way this morning.

Yesterday, walking the dog on the canal, I noticed the canal was as low as I've seen it in a long time. Several feet of mud flats on both banks, the swampy areas dry and silent--no croaking of frogs yesterday morning. And where a storm drain about 5 feet in diameter was about 5 inches above the water in the canal.

Then the rains came! Two torrential soakers of storms--one in the late morning and the other in the early evening dropped rain on Cheshire for about 2 hours each time.

This morning, as we walked, there was no sight of mud, in fact the water had taken over some saplings along the banks. The marshes were back, as were the noisy frogs. And that huge storm drain was half submerged in the rapidly moving water that 24 hours before was stagnant and slow.

So, what just if, the old saying can be trusted? What just if things can turn around in our lives rapidly, serendipitously, without effort? What just if that might be so?

Better, it seems to me anyway, to live our of and lean into that kind of hope and expectation rather to live from the anxiety and vague fear we often have about tomorrow....

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About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.