flotsam, there is something wrong with me

A fluffle?

Bunnies. There’s a lot of them around this year.

Somewhere under my ivy there may be a warren, in which lives a colony, a nest, even a fluffle, of wild rabbits.

I found one nibbling under my potted plant. It startled when I came out on the deck, but it’s bold and didn’t go far. Mere feet away, in fact.

Not sure it knows it’s not invisible; freezing in place isn’t helping it hide there.

Eh, what’s up Doc?

Well, I’m not opposed to bunnies. They will eat my hastas, which are really my mother’s. Which I therefore do not want to happen.

But on the other hand, if my yard has bunnies setting up shop, it probably doesn’t have more verminy options. Rats would tend to dissuade rabbits. Or so I am given to understand.

So all things considered, I’ll take bunnies in the yard. A whole fluffle of them, even.

flotsam

The torrent comes

It’s sunny, hot and humid all day. I can see the sunny from my office window. I can feel the hot, even with the A/C on, and the forecast says we’ll see 90ish. The humid is confirmed when I get the mail in the afternoon, when I take out the recycling in the evening.

An hour later, the sky goes hazy, then dusky. And then Flash-Crack goes the lightning and thunder, almost simultaneously.

And then the sky opens wide.

The swale fills. The pond fills. The gutters next door fill.

I step out onto the porch to take it all in. I message the folks to see how they’re doing. They’ve lost power. Sigh.

They say the house is still cool for now from the A/C being on until a few moment ago.

Things that are straightforward normally are complicated by pandemic. Even so, if the power stays off and the heat climbs, it’s not a question. Obviously.

Pack a bag while there’s still light, I tell them. And make sure to report the outage to the power company.

They do and then assure me the power company says the lights will be back on in a couple of hours.

Pack just in case, and you won’t need to. Don’t pack, and they’ll have delays and you’ll be packing by flashlight later.

S has rubbed off on me: Contingency planning. Have a plan, a plan B, a plan C.

They don’t respond to that. I’m sure they think I’m crazy.

Anyway, their power does come back on, and ahead of schedule.

The rain slows to a slightly less alarming rate.

Tapers off.

Stops.

It’s full dark when it starts again. Low rumbles, flashes, the rush of water. I can’t see it. But I hear it.

Sometimes the summer rain is comforting. Tonight it is not.