Flood and storms in a little yard

 What do you need when there is fire? Water of course. There was a sandstorm and thundershowers. There is most urgent need for water at this part of the year. But water was furiously splashed by the storm. The trees were shaken, seriously ruffled, jolted painfully in fact. Such storms further elaborate the rustic revelations of the countryside. Many trees fell, branches broke and countless leaves blown away. But they have to bear with it. And they do it with astounding, rosy equity of being, following their tree dharma, always keeping up the intrinsic spirit of resilience. The same storm that breaks their branches, takes away their seeds to far off places for the survival of their species. I have groomed a few marigolds in the shade. Their growth is mediocre considering the time of the season. But their mere survival in this heat makes them special. However faded and small the smile is, it still is a subtle allegory to beauty and truth. When the honeybees buzz over them it seems to put melodic reverberations on the songless lips of the summer. The flowers have been roughly shaken, badly manhandled in fact. However, I’m happy with what remains. I help them in getting to their feet again and smile once more to serve as the symbolic sovereignty of beauty over the beast.

The busy ant-hole in the bricks in the yard comes straight in the line of the flood when it rains. But they don’t complain. Actually the defender groups clump together and plug the opening, saving the cavity from getting flooded. They choke the rushing waters to a trickle, then even that trickle must be gone. I think the little baby ants deep in the cavity won’t even come to know about the storms and floods outside. In the face of a crisis they just do the needful instead of holding dismissing discussions. Many of the frontline workers die in the bargain. But they survive as a colony, not individually. All of them are just ants, not ant x, ant y or ant z. Their little world carries a pleasant innocence about it.

Once the flood is over, it’s the same busy world the next sunny morning. They are calmly consistent in their schedule, storms or no storms. There are crumbs around the gate. The tireless laborers have been carrying their cargo for their warehouse.

The temperature drops sharply on account of the drizzles over the last two days. It’s cool. You feel slightly cold under a simple ceiling fan. Isn’t mother nature amazing? She can help us cope with the most of our modern-day problems, provided we give her some respite from our rampant onslaught.