Yesterday was an odd day to write about rills. I suppose this week’s steady rainfall was the background music to my choice, the steady patter of drops on grass, a calming, soothing noise.

Until you witness what all those steady drops can bring.

Our part of the world was a swollen, soggy mess yesterday — and dangerous, too. I had to turn around when rushing creek water turned parts of my usual route into a river. An hour or so later, on his way home, Tom saw a fire engine towing a boat. And in fact, a commuter parking lot near us was closed, the cars submerged, after six inches of rain fell in a few hours. Children were stranded at their schools. Things were so bad that people made jokes about seeing animals lined up two by two.

And still today it rains. In the last three weeks we’ve had an earthquake, a hurricane and now torrential rain and flooding. A line from Emily Dickinson comes to mind:

“Nature, like us, is sometimes caught without her diadem.”