Monday, May 3, 2010

Bliss and blockheads

There’s great comfort in the sound of the water rushing over the rocks at the end of the driveway. Yesterday it was a trickle, today a modest but raging waterfall, powering its way down the gully toward the ocean, 10 kilometres away. The water tanks are overflowing and the pool's burst its banks. The wet adventure continues to fall relentlessly from the sky in heavy curtains. The decision I was grappling with about whether to head down the range to the farmer’s market this morning has been answered. I’ll make do with a can of kidney beans, and some crackers. I’m hardly going to starve with the bouquet of citrus burgeoning the kitchen bench. I brave the wet to take a happy snap. ‘What a nice bit of rain, aren’t we lucky’ I call across to my new neighbour, standing on his verandah checking out the mad woman covered in plastic, a fag hanging from the side of his mouth, a surly look furrowing his brow. ‘If you say so’ he grunts. ‘I doubt the Austar guy is going to get through tho’. For some people, like my happy neighbour, nature is a distraction to endure, something that just occurs, rather than a raison d’etre. Così è la vita!