Rivers of Rain

It’s a rainy June in Calgary. For many years, I lived out in Rockyford counting my blessings that I wasn’t living under the rain cloud that settles over Calgary most Junes.

Now here I am living in it and I find it fascinating. Perhaps all those years of living in a place where rain is odd has given me a new perspective on it.

Now when it rains hard, I go watch. Last night I actually got out of bed and went to stand outside and just watch and listen.

I find my mind flying off on flights of fancy listening to the rain and watching it run downhill in tiny white capped rivers along the curbs. I imagine the sight of the Bow River as it swells within its banks and say a silent prayer for people living too close to find the rising water fascinating.

I think about the ducklings I photographed last week and hope they are out of harm’s way. Rivers are very powerful and, at the moment, the Bow is raging like teenage hormones. You can get in the way if you like, but I’ll just wait until it calms down before I get too close again.

One slip and a person would become a statistic.

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