“And the needles of the pine trees, freshly washed to a deep, rich green, shimmered with droplets that blinked like clear crystals.”
Billie Letts
Lovelies, I can’t begin to tell you…
Our farm has been in drought most of the past two years. Drought in a rainforest. Unheard of.
And then there were the fires.
Trees dying. Everything dusty and parched and struggling.
The air thick with smoke, and Armageddon skies.
Remember?
It was so bad that we had the irrigator set up to protect our little cottage with the firefighters pump ready to drain the swimming pool if we were evacuated and had to leave our home undefended against fires.
Yesterday, after too long away, I came home to the farm.
A month ago, the day after I left to go to America, it rained. And we’ve had a few more showers since then.
This week we’ve had heavy rain. All week. And more is forecast.
What a difference some rain makes.
I cried on the drive home from the city – through flooded cane fields and as we drove over the bridges straddling swirling brown rivers, huge in their flow.
Everything is impossibly green.
Lush.
Verdant.
The air is clean, and filled with moisture.
The creek and river at home, which had dried up to a foetid chain of pools, are flowing again.
Last night all we could hear were frogs and cicadas and critters everywhere rejoicing.
I had forgotten how the colour green lifts my soul.
Somehow, a piece of me that I didn’t even know was suffering has been healed.
This morning I plan a long ramble through the wet paddocks with the dogs, to explore the miracle that these recent flooding rains have brought.
It’s so very good to be home.
Wishing you a peaceful, heart-centred weekend, Nicole xx
