Until I didn't

I used to like to watch it rain.

It did so with such infrequency around here that any rainfall was an event worth noting.

Until recently.

Summer was wetter than usual, but this fall has been soggier than anyone can remember. The storm a few weeks ago washed out roads and flooded fields. And about the time floodwaters began to recede it started raining again.

The old saying “We can always use the moisture,” has been replaced with “Be glad it’s not snow.”

But it may be soon.

It’s November now.

The freeze can’t be far away.

Perhaps as a precursor to what lies ahead, I recently received an email from the United States Swim School Association offering tips on how to survive a fall through the ice.

There will be a lot of it this winter. Every old oxbow and low spot on the prairie is full of water and it isn’t going anywhere. While the creeks have retreated back inside their banks, most are still running like it’s springtime.

Surviving a fall through the ice might be a bit more difficult this winter.

I’ve fallen through before, both in the creek and in the marsh, when water levels were far lower than they are now. I could stay home and avoid the risk altogether, but once it freezes, it will be much easier to get around.

As long as the ice doesn’t break.

If it gets cold before the snow gets deep there should be good ice, but if we get a lot of snow before the ice gets thick it will be treacherous out there.

On the bright side, as a result of all the rain, my neglected lawn is as green and lush as my neighbors’ manicured ones, there’s no dust in the air, and I don’t need to carry water for the dogs when we hunt.

And with many of my old haunts underwater, I’ve been forced to find new places to hunt.

There’s no rain in the forecast, but I’m leery nonetheless. None of this was expected.

I fear it won’t be long before I hear raindrops drumming on the roof again and then I won’t as the drops turn to flakes.

I’ll try not to look, close the curtains, and hope it goes away.

I used to like to watch it rain.

Until I didn’t.

Parker Heinlein is at

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