“In one drop of water are found all the secrets of all the oceans.”

– Kahlil Gibran

Today promises to be another 100-degree day.  After a Spring and early Summer when we struggled to find enough dry days to mow the grass, we have found ourselves in a rainless stretch of days that have become weeks.  Ordinarily, with a forecast of 100 degrees, I would say that I expect a steamy day; but there is no steam to be made when the air is as dry as a bone.

Even the tiny footprints of birds can be seen in the dust that has replaced the firm clay soil under the trees.

The creek is trickling instead of rushing, and the stones that were submerged and hidden by its waters now lie exposed and dry, baking in the sun.

As I look at the clouds, back-lit by the rising sun, I find myself dreaming that they carry some rain that might reach the thirsty ground later in the day.  I arrivehome at sunrise, uncoil the garden hose, and turn on the spray that will see our vegetables through another scorching day.  My friend, the catbird, must feel the moisture in the air;  for soon he arrives with his family in tow, and begins to fly in swoops and dives through the spray.  I think of the elation I felt as a girl, when I would practice my synchronized swimming moves and slice with precision through the silent world of water.  How I wish in this moment that I, too, could feel weightless in air and know the joy of dancing through a sprinkler and never touching the ground.

If catbirds can celebrate the blessing of water, how is it that we just assume it will be there in plentiful supply, whenever we need it?  I sit at my desk, glass of water at hand, and think of the Gulf and the way that the oil spill is fouling her waters.  I think of the creek with its banks dry and its stones exposed.  I think of the bird prints in soil so dry that it cannot withstand such a tiny bit of weight.  I watch the drops of hose-water dance on the leaves of my garden plants and fall to the ground where thirsty roots await their arrival; and, in that moment, I feel myself airborne and singing as I celebrate water — the elixir of life.  If one drop of water carries all the secrets of the oceans, I pray that it will also carry the gratitude born of our dawn celebration — up to the clouds, caught in the breeze, and bestowing its healing on the suffering waters.