Friday, April 23, 2010

Spring 2010

It rained all day yesterday and the many of the creeks of Wabaunsee County are so full that they are overflowing. The creeks are running deep and muddy from the run off in the Flint Hills. The water of Mill Creek and its tributaries tumble violently toward the Kansas River, which will then empty into the Big Mo (Missouri) at the far eastern border. The never ending flow yearns for the mighty depths of the Mississippi and will deposit the good black soil it churned up from the topsoil of Kansas onto the Delta. Good things grow there because of the earth washed away by the rain in Kansas.

When I crossed the Kansas River bridge this morning at Maple Hill, the river was fast and violent. Huge bloated bodies of long dead trees floated awkwardly down the river, dragging and jerking across the submerged sandbars, bumping along in the raging waters like blind men. Imagine the amount of water it takes to move those monstrous trees.

I am sitting near an open window tonight. The evening air is cool, lightly floating across the warmth of our living room; the outside sounds mix with the soft electronic pulses from our television. It is dark and the sun has set. At 8:30 PM, the house is starting to cool. Our cats are perched on the back of the sofa, snuffling at the fragrant coolness filtering through the screens.

The birds are singing evening songs to each other. Soon they will fall silent and tuck their heads under their wings until dawn and then the night sounds will start: coyotes will yip and talk to each other across the valley; dogs will bark for their masters; cats will prowl and visit at the window, growling at our curious kitties in the windows.