Blogs by Hilary Hopkins

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May 22, 2014 / Rain Travel

Plesiosaurs swam in my tears.

Jesus, or his mother, or Buddha, or Mohammed, turned their faces up to some of this same rain.  So did Genghis Khan, or his henchies, and a shaman the painter of visions in Lascaux.  Probably they took shelter from it. 

Parts of bergy bits floating in the Southern Ocean were once exhaled by a Tyrannosaurus, Rex.

Water in the worms that appear now on the rainy sidewalks formerly traveled about in a four-legger, or a two- or six-legger, or finned around the oceans, or plumped up an ancient giant fern.

The rain that gave life to the asparagus and potatoes I’ll be cooking for dinner tonight was once ice in a glacier that covered our street.  It would have taken a lot of rain because the glacier was a mile thick.

All the water on earth is all the water there is.  Pretty much.  At least in our nearby astronomical neighborhood.   Something to ponder, to cherish.

Comments

  • Chip 01:21pm, 06/09/2014

    I too cherish the waters

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