Reluctant Spring

 If cold glaciers formed here,

Creeks would flow from crack and crevice,

As anxiety and angst flow down,

From sinew and bone,

Flooding pool and tranquility.

Daisy springs up in shade,

Bonnets cower and hide in cold, 

Reticent to unsheathe themselves,

Huddled and aching,

Akimbo embracing the Sun.

Russet lake churned by rain, 
Slogging seething unsettled moil,

The muddled mind seeks clarity,

Aerates and agitates,

Clear and tranquil moving downstream.

The Taste Of Water

The child drinking from sippy cup to the Guatemalan woman walking miles, we all have experienced it. The taste of water. A stop on the John Muir trail, the first place I remember. Snowmelt. Good water. I liked water from that green garden hose. This was better. Brighter than bottled. How to explain the taste of water? Start with the negative? What water isn’t? Quantify it? Add in cold. We always say, ‘cold and clear.’ Is clear a flavor note?

My uncle built a house in California gold country. Water from a well. Chill water flowing up from rock and river, igneous, slate and marble. Satisfying and creating thirst. You can’t imagine. Unless you’ve gone without, climbed a mountain, chopped a cord of wood, sweat salt-white dripping into your eyes. Now you can taste it. Almost.

The smell of water after it splashes the pavement. Music spills out of courts and corners, tangible and ubiquitous. Thousands coming for the festival; Sukkot, ‘the season of our joy.’ Children scamper, adults meander, wall to wall they fill walkways. On a high point in the courtyard a man stands and cries out, “If anyone is thirsty I will give you drink!”

A crowd forms around the man. Where is his hat for tips? What magic will he do? A mother walks by, father and children in tow; they’re hungry and must be fed. A man from the beach city slows, “Finally repayment for my taxes!” Some come thirsty. That man’s voice cries out again, distinct. The music has hushed. His cry elicits their response, “Oh give us this water!”

Water gives life and water kills. Well water is great but not if it’s high in Chromium-6. River water taste great but may hide Giardia. Water’s flavor depends on where the water comes from. If you get water from a well, it might have a slightly mineral or chalky taste because it’s passed through layers of limestone deep underground. Water will temporarily slake thirst. There’s water that’ll put you together when you’re broken, that gives sight to the blind then splashes out in an everlasting stream. That’s some good water. We are the crowd. We are the entitled. Oh Rabbi, give us this water!

Swimming

We swim in an alien atmosphere. I remember early voyages. Passing through a white, steel gate; walking down a narrow corridor you smell it. Chlorine saturated water steams from wet cement. An adult beckons; parents push. The first step into clear blue water; foot feeling the tension as it breaks the surface, then the other.  Oh, the cold!

I’m not comfortable entering a pool.  My asthmatic lungs seize up with quick temperature change. I can barely breathe. I’m leaving the safety of air and firm footing. One step down; bathing suit gets wet and heavy. Two steps down then hold to the side, hold to the side! 

Grasping tight the pool’s edge over there is a pile of rectangles; like tops from Styrofoam ice-boxes. Bright colors; cherry red and cobalt blue with corners cut-off. For what purpose?

Inside the pool a line of children hold to the edge. An adult towers over us in a red bathing suit. “Pretend you’re in a big bathtub.  Face down and blow bubbles.” Easy. Each is given an ice-box cover. Trembling and terror, we leave the side. Grasping kick-boards we shove out across the shallow end a line of stick men without arms.

The new house has a pool. Neighbor girls hurl us into cold water. The sink-or-swim school. Dog paddles stave off drowning. Paddles turn to superior strokes. What was fearful now’s freedom.  Summer days spent swimming til cool water constricts blood vessels. We turn purple.

We swim in an alien atmosphere. The sink-or-swim school. Bright colors bid us leave the shallow end to the scary deep. Perhaps freedom awaits!

Water

“And whoever in the name of a disciple gives to one of these little ones even a cup of cold water to drink, truly I say to you, he shall not lose his reward.”

 ^"Again he prayed, and the heavens gave rain, and the earth produced its crops."

Water had hold of his mind. Water; our landlord was convinced one of us was stealing it.  We shared the meter with two other tenants. First came the personal interrogations. He insisted we use the same amount of water as our neighbors though there were three of us vs. single guy and married couple. Then came replacement to low flow plumbing. Rants continued every time contact was made.  Then a list of suggestions such as ‘do laundry once a week,’ ‘hand-wash dishes,’ and ‘limit baths and showers.’ He could have simply raised the rent. Water was available in ample supply; but the landlord didn’t want to pay for it.

My morning shower is a ritual; like morning coffee. The average ‘American’ shower uses 17 gallons and lasts eight minutes.  My wife would have you believe mine take twice as long. Taking my water use out of the equation; the average American uses 80-100 gallons per day. Meanwhile, “Yasmin Dawood is working hard to stick to her limit of 13.2 gallons per day for individuals...”

Cape Town, South Africa is to run out of water in July.  The government is shutting off the supply. The dams are empty. The original shut-off date was April; but through conservation and water borrowing the taps now will go dry in July. Four million people (between the census of 1996 and 2011, the City of Cape Town grew by 45%) scrounging for water. Worldwide, 663 million people lack access to improved drinking water.

 When your ‘small l’ landlord messes with your water you can move.  When the Lord of all withholds water you can pray, utilize your resources and hope like crazy for solution. We can be part of the solution. These 5 non-profits have a healthy focus on water.  Pray with them.  Hope with them. Think of them with your coffee, shower and shave.