Riding in the rain
Joy
Rare treat in dry times
Sucking droplets from the heavens out of Corvid Wildman beard
Acoustic motorbike Luka called it
Puddles squelch
Tires give a cheeky spray up my back
Parched land drinks
The last significant rains are critical in surviving the coming drought
Maybe these drops wont count
But they are joy no less
Every year the desiccation clock is set ticking
All life needs water
Dry Season is annual drought
Rivers run dry
Soil moisture plummets
saturation to field capacity to below wilt point
for the second year we enter the dry with less in the tank than normal
there will be casualties
that is life here
the ebb and flow of forces greater than us
to be respected
circles become spirals
change dances to a rhythm
away from the rivers
above water tables
whole ecosystems prepare to hold their breath
grass seeds and Kakadu plums are offered as gifts
in return for dispersal
I eat
we dance
gorilla bomb naff suburban gardens by spitting native seed
leaves fall and protect what soil moisture there is
will fire be early or late?
Early when there is still moisture?
Late when everything stands desiccated ready to explode?
In the cool of evening with a light dew taming its rage
Or dancing like wild dragons with hot afternoon gusts feeding them?
Perhaps next week when this falling rain is still remembered
It has stopped and is just dripping from the leaves now
These moments wont last
But cool moist air brings peace with each breath
Calm acceptance permeates the land on this ride
The pedals go around and the bike goes forward
Into the mystery of time
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