Kickass and the bad sound of rain

Kickass, the doorstop dog, passes along the keeper’s observation that there was a time when a steady rain falling on the roof was a universal comfort sound across Wisconsin with all the citizens safe and comfortable in their homes, with the ones they love and the collected detritus and memorabilia of their lives like personal linings to their nests.

Then last night, the rain came again, not an isolated sprinkle, but an unrelenting downfall, punctuated by occasional thunder and flashes of lightning, and there was no comfort to be taken in the sound of it.  In thousands of Wisconsin places, lives have become soggy messes, physically and mentally.  Just blocks away, those precious “nest linings” are heaped as junk at the curb, and mixed with it all must be the sodden spirits of those who must somehow now put their lives back together.

So in the sound of the rain, thoughts take a dark turn, even going so far as to grope for blame—global warming deniers, those who would pollute the air with yet more coal smoke, the black-toppers of drainage basins—etc.   That is all pointless, of course.  Better to donate something meaningful from you own dry nest, like 20 bucks to help someone replace a sodden couch.

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