“Praised be my Lord, for my sister water.” ~ St. Francis of Assisi
Today, somewhere on our blue planet, someone is waiting for water. That person may be hoping for rain, dreading a flood, or drilling a deep well. If you live in southern California, substantial rain has not fallen for three years; if you live in Brazil’s largest city Sao Paulo, in less than three months, you may not be able to draw water out of the faucet as their main reservoir is now 75% dry. States Sao Paulo’s City Engineer, “All we have left to hope is for rain. Without rainfall, we have no options.”
Here in the Pacific Northwest, many folks were relieved when the rainy season returned, putting an end to wildfires. Ponds started refilling, wetlands turned, well, wet. Our parched lawn became deep green overnight. Returning salmon, stacked up at the mouth of tributaries, swam upstream to complete their journeys.
One of our main signs of autumn is anticipating the flow of water in our small stream. Normally dry for 10 – 11 months of the year, when water soaks the soil to the point of overflow, we know our hidden ground aquifer is being rejuvenated. However, as we roll the clocks back an hour today, early November has not yet provided adequate rainfall for even pools to form. We may need to wait for snowmelt to resurrect the creek.
While people have prayed for rain for millenia, we have not elevated water to the vital spiritual entity that it represents. Water has been a commodity that is measured and allocated for utilitarian purposes in cities and in agriculture. We rarely return water to its lakes and rivers in the same pure form after it has been used. Until water is elevated to the revered stature it deserves, I fear our long wait for its appearance will grow. ~