When It Rains It Pours

The old expression of “when it rains it pours” undoubtedly is still in wide usage because of its relatability.  This is the Americanized version, thanks to Morton Salt, of the older English phrase, “it never rains, but it pours.”  Nonetheless, the sentiment that undesirable news and events come in distinct waves is understandable and universal.

At present, in Colorado, we’re having late May snowstorms, yielding in clumps of heavy wet snow on fully leaved and blooming trees.  Perhaps some of the greatest impact is felt by the most mature trees.  The largest trees, with the thickest trunks and tallest branches, which in turn provide the most shade, experience the most breakage.  Dense chunks of snow and sleet cling to the fresh, full spring green leaves and SNAP off huge limbs. 

The distinct sound of our trees breaking woke me several times in the night.  Six o’clock in the morning was thus characterized for me by the dragging of eleven-foot branches through slush into a chainsaw-ready pile.

Taking a step back, I can certainly realize that this problem is just simply highly inconvenient. In light of our pending home sale and interstate move avec les enfants, perhaps even more so.  However, the symbolism is not lost on me.

It seems that lately people around me have been standing amidst their own torrential downpours.  Separations, depression, anxiety, job loss, hospitalizations, surgeries, and deaths.  Some of the most noble, valiant, best people I know.

It’s hard to write anything down when you’re standing in the rain, when the ink runs and the paper is wet.  Good thing the rain and snow don’t impede prayer.

#AnitaVP #writingjourney #TuesdayThoughts #snow #snowinmay #may #pray #whenitrainsitpours