As a rancher, you will never hear me cuss the rain, but dagnabbit, enough is enough! I haven’t actually kept up with how many days it has rained this year, but I think the last time I saw sunshine, Rick Perry was still in office. I have grass growing in places I’ve never seen grass before, like in red ant beds, on rock piles, in the bed of my Chevy truck. I’ve been trying to mow my pastures of dying wildflowers, but thunderstorms race in and tell me to get my literally screwed up back off that tractor and back in my recliner.
I recently heard on the Weather Channel that some places in Texas have received rain for 40 days and 40 nights. Now, I am a God-fearing man, raised by good Christian parents who insisted on my attendance in Bible school. I recall Bible stories like Daniel and the Lion and David and Goliath, but the one that really stuck with me is the tale of Noah’s ark. I have always wondered how he could’ve built a boat that large, and how he kept the leopards from killing the gazelles.
Now, with all this rain we’ve gotten and forecasted to keep getting, I have built my own ark. I had plenty of wood from all the trees that died in the drought (oh, remember those nice, sunny days the past three summers when we were praying for rain?). Now I have to decide who and what animals I will house on my ark while the state of Texas becomes the next Atlantis.
