Hard Rain

Hard rain falling. A real thunderstorm, lightning illuminating the hollow, rolling thunder. The snow on the roof has compacted to about six inches, and should slide off at any minute, with a bone jarring thud when it hits the back porch. Always a shocker, usually three in the morning, and it's like an earthquake. Gets your attention. I checked the catchments, for the culverts, walking in yesterday, and they're running free, which is good, because they'll be carrying a fair bit of water. The Park Rangers know their local geography, and have taken the level of water way down in Turkey Lake to allow for the sudden influx. Upper Twin Creek and Mackletree Creek will flood out, Turkey Creek, where it flows over the spillway, will be running in spate. I put out buckets, under the eaves, to collect the runoff, I might not have to melt any more snow this winter. Boiled rain water (in southern Ohio), which I've been drinking for weeks, is metallic and slightly astringent. It's not unpleasant and it makes a good cup of coffee. Doctor TR, from his kit bag, had recommended that I try taking an aspirin for my hip pain, and It works. I'm not one to mask pain, generally, I've always been of that school that says my body is telling me something, so I tweak my diet or my routine, and I never think about taking over-the-counter willow bark. But it works, and I walk without a limp, and face the next day. Getting back down the hill is problematic, but I have a plan. I'd saved a piece of triple walled cardboard and I have two ski-poles. I think I can just slide down, and use the poles as brakes. Getting back up could be a problem. But I'll cross that bridge .Overslept, but got to work in time to help load the Ron Issacs pieces; Charlotte and Emily on transport detail. I spent the rest of the day putting things away from the last installations. Getting out and in today were as bad as yesterday, but tomorrow will be even worse; supposed to be 60 degrees and the frost will be coming out. Serious mud. The water level at the lake rose five feet in 24 hours, and now a flood of napp coming over the spillway. The lake is still frozen, but the water pressure lifts the ice at the edge of the spillway and the water escapes in a flood. I sit there for a few minutes, watching, and listening to the incredible roar. Three crows were very unhappy that I didn't bring them a snack. The geese and ducks are all gone. A lovely Sparrow Hawk in a dead tree on Mackletree, such a beautiful bird; I raised one, a spring on Cape Cod, and the staff at the Playhouse got me a lovely early reprint of Frederick The Great's excellent book on falconry. They paid $35 for it in 1970, and it's worth $500 now, it's in the vault, at the museum, along with a dozen books of similar value, and a couple that are worth more. Some of my Salt-Works Press books are worth a fair amount of money, but they need binding. If I cleaned out the chainsaw room, and turned it into a bindery, I could do very well with that. And there's the Edward Gorey stuff. And a couple of things I printed for the University of Mississippi, some signed broadsides, Robert Penn Warren, and the like. I held back a few copies, I was, after all, the printer.