by underswansea


The river filled up today, flowing high on the banks and flooding our walking paths. Willow and I stayed on the ledge. The rain hit hard. It was good to see. We haven’t had much this spring. The swallows stayed in the banks, not even coming out to give us the business. Willow seemed disappointed as she has become to enjoy this part of our walk. She spent some extra time running below the banks trying to entice them. Once the rain stops the mosquitoes will hatch in the wetlands, and those swallows will be in their element. Next week during our walk the mosquitoes will buzz around us taking our blood and the swallows will swoop and eat the mosquitoes. We like to think we’re on the top of the food chain but we’re not. We’re also not the smartest. I know this for sure, because I’ve been tricked too many times by every animal in the bush, especially birds and even my own dogs.

In the evening, dark clouds with lightening rolled in. It came from Nelson in the west and went straight over Swansea in the east, opposite the route of the stars and moon. The thunder shook the house. This was Willow’s first thunder storm and she was fine. Lisa and I were happy to see this. Slinky had such a hard time during thunder storms. She would pace and whine. There was no consoling her. We used to get her in the truck and drive around. It helped, but she wasn’t herself. Who hasn’t been scared shitless during a storm? Luckily it doesn’t happen every time. For Slinky it did. Willow seems different and that’s good.

The rain has really made things shoot up in the garden. The Norland potatoes could use hilling. That’s something considering many years I haven’t planted before the first of June. My father was a good gardener. He used to say, ‘We’ll have new potatoes for Mom’s birthday’. My mother’s birthday was July 5th. Many years I can remember small red spuds and my mother’s appreciation.

Lisa’s birthday is the 8th of July. Three days after my mother’s. This year she is getting new potatoes. She better not ask for anything else. . . and she better not ask for them mashed.

The rain’s let up. Like the creeks the moon is heading for full.