Wet Day

There is something fiercely gratifying about hearing a sump pump working below you, every four or five minutes motoring from the basement bowels, and then the spilling waters leaving what could have occupied your house, bound for the filtering of soil and sand and rock.
I have been listening to that sound all day, glad we put in the pump after last spring’s 6 inches of standing water in our basement that took out the whole of what was once the Rec Room. I like rain. I am the daughter of farm people. I know the power of “a good rain.”

“We need the rain” was the solution to many soggy Saturdays in my youth. And the phrase I used to justify my children’s last week. It’s a sales pitch. And in forest fire terrain, it’s something they understand not unlike like the children of corn and soy bean farmers in Illinois.

But I didn’t expect the rain I got just now, in my house, not from a leaking gutter or a high water table, but from my own doing. I ran my bath, water on water, and went outside to photograph the dripping garden. I had on tennis socks and pocketed them into flip flops—very fashionable. Who cares. I live in rural Montana. And there is a world outside to behold.

I love how water plays on flowers.

On the fuzz of poppies,
the palms of lupine,

the folds of ladies mantle.

And when I returned to the warmth and dry of my house, there was the sound of sump pump. Only not where I was used to it motoring away all day. It was somewhere central and wrong. I listened and waited. My son yelled, “Mommy, it’s raining in the kitchen!” And it was. I’d overflown the bathtub!

My socks are very wet now. And my pride too. This is a very wet day.


Filed under Little Hymns to Montana, My Posts

2 Responses to Wet Day

  1. Robin Naylor

    Hi Laura- thanks for sharing a day in your life. I’m sitting – for the first time in WEEKS. I’m sitting in one of my favorite places- the front porch of our home in Bay Head. It’s quiet. There’s a breeze and the sun is shining. We are finally settled in for the summer. It’s so hard for me to slow down, but your message was the perfect and timely reminder to do just that. So thanks! And stay dry. R

  2. Jerri

    I know this kind of wet. Two weeks ago I walked into my downstairs bathroom and found water pouring down the wall and through the ceiling. The fitting to the ice maker was leaking. No fun.

    And I didn’t even have the gorgeous views to make up for it. (The socks/flipflops is my favorite. Very chic.)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>