July 8, 2025
It’s an early July morning in Hiram, Maine, and I am feeling blessed for the summer breeze wafting through the open windows of the sunroom where I write. I wish for everyone a day like today. The air smells like summer. The birds are chirping from the safely of their perches high in the gently swaying poplars. Though it is only 9 o’clock, I can already feel the heat of the day rising. Thunderstorms are promised later, and I am looking forward to the light show they will provide. When the sun goes down in the mountains and the lightning flashes crack the sky, the rumble of thunder seems to shake the very earth. It is God’s powerful majesty, and man must drop all the tools of the day and simply witness. If we are lucky, we will get some much-needed rain. Summer time weather patterns seem to have a kind of unpredictability. Some will get a massive downpour, while in the next town others anxiously await a few needed drops. The garden will be well-watered by morning or it will remain parched and dry. The dirt road will still send up clouds of dust as cars pass by or it will be rutted by the deluge. It will be as it will.
In any case, we expect to survive another summer’s day whether it brings the rain or not. We’ve been through this for so many years now. We’ve learned to adapt to the whims and wilds of nature. That is what we thought until the recent floods that have plagued our nation on a seemingly regular basis. And now, what happened along the Guadalupe has us all wondering if we will ever feel safe again. We know that a freak and unexpected weather system can bring torrential rain or hurricane force winds to what was a seemingly calm summer’s day. We witnessed this in Massachusetts on the evening of July 3rd. First, the winds wildly kicked up and then came the torrential rains and thunderstorms. The storm passed quickly, leaving in its wake downed branches and trees and powerlines strewn across so many towns. I remember thinking that this was one heck of a “chance of a thunderstorm” predicted earlier on the news.
All of this reminds us that Mother Nature is a powerful force that demands our respect and our awareness. We depend so much on weather apps even though we know they are so often wrong. It could be because they are trying to predict the ever increasing unpredictable. What appears to be a common passing storm could easily turn into a life-changing event, and whether it is the mighty Saco pouring down out of the White Mountains or the tiny Assonet River at the bottom of Slab Bridge Hill, we know that no one is immune from danger.
A calm river setting can bring such peace and joy. We lay on the warmed stones along the riverbank and bask in the summer’s light. They are worn to a perfect smoothness that can cradle the body into a state of relaxation. As our fingertips press against them, we feel reassured of their stability and permanence. And yet, they have been worn smooth over the many uncountable years that came before us. The force of water that can gentle even the craggiest of rocks can also prove powerful and destructive. The rivers flood and the wildfires burn while the planet slowly but surely heats up. It seems sometimes that nature has become as distressed as the humans that live upon it. Its call can be heard in the clamoring of the rushing water and in the blistering flames. It asks us to listen to its simple message with our hearts. One word … Unless
