Deluge

For the past few years—the drought years—when the Weather Channel has forecast something approaching a monsoon, you could pretty much leave your umbrella at home. For reasons no one could explain, the heavy rains always seemed to materialize elsewhere. This year, thank God, has been different, and our precipitation harvest has been way above normal. By the time the latest storm cleared out late this afternoon, the rain gauge tallied nearly 3.5 inches of blessed moisture. I consider it a fine birthday gift—I turned 64 today—and right after dark, when, on a whim, I decided to check out a secret pond I've been watching over the years, I got another present, this one a near miracle. At this pond, which the deluge had filled, I heard a chorus of Eastern Spadefoot Toads, magical animals that had, as near as I can determine, been living underground for nearly five years. All of our heavy precipitation was enough to wake them and send them aboveground. I made a recording of the sheep-like chorus and sent it to biologist friends. I suspect that I might soon have company on my evening rounds.