I guess Mother Nature was pissed that we were having so much fun drinking on the beach and doing front walk-overs and cart wheels and such. She was aaang-gree. Because she pissed on us. Crazy urine flow- 2 inches in some six minutes. So they say. We wernt home.
She made a river of our road. Upturned hunting camps and all the antlers inside. Made the mice run for their lives. She made the creek go where it has never gone before, pushing gigantic culverts where they didn't need to be.
And as dump trucks bring up our new road in segments, she is still pissing on us.
So they're trying to decide where to put culverts and where to make the stream go- all in anticipation that this will happen again. And again. And again.
I have not a garden. Well, I do, but not much grows. It's a mud puddle with bits of kale and onion. And everything is moist- the couch, the towels, the sheets. It's all moist. Mold is growing on my cabinets where grease secretly hid. And now, a living breathing fuzzy thing has invaded without invitation. It seems to grow while I'm looking at it. I think I have mold on my eyelids. It's definitely behind my ears.
Mother Nature is cruel. I had four robin babies in a nest in the crutch of my satellite dish when I left for the beach. I checked on them when I got back and they lifted their measly beaks to me as I pushed the screen out of the window to peek. Yesterday they were gone. Another kind of bird sat in their place. I think there are birds out there who steal babies. It's the second summer I've witnessed this kind of kidnapping. It just doesn't seem right.
And Mother Nature, too, made very sharp rocks. Very very sharp rocks, which punctured my air mattress while I was camping and made me lie all night on said sharp rocks. It just doesn't seem right. It just doesn't seem fair. Mother Nature, please make it right.