Set the Mainsail

Dead leaves racing

down the flowing gutters

to the finish line

It only takes one stick to start a dam wall. Beavers taught us that fact long ago, and are still masters of the art. The skies opened up yet again today, bringing a deluge, and with it the inevitable stream of leaf and twig litter gushing down the gutters and into the drains. That is, until one little stick gets jammed at the entrance to the drain, so everything that comes after has a dickens of a job getting past it. With leaves and pine needles and twigs building up, the water simply follows the path of least resistance and flows every which way until paths and roads are awash.

I have memories of racing twig boats and icy pole sticks down the gutters on days such as this with my friends. Too bad what the weather was like, there was no thought of going inside if there was something remotely worthwhile to do outside. We’d cheer our flimsy vessels on, filling their pretend sails with imaginary wind to help them on their way.

The joys of childhood are long gone, and unfortunately I tend to look out on our sodden neighbourhood with more practical eyes. With the ground already saturated, the garden now resembles a bog, and reminds me that if this keeps up, come springtime we’ll be living with the consequences of an abundance of rain, moaning and groaning as we go about the business of mowing.

Nonetheless, the fact that I noticed the event and recaptured the memory confirms the little girl is still alive in me, which is rather heartening.