First of May still twenty fourteen

The unedited story of the notagoddess and the 100 acres -

Back to the tree again. A tree. Any tree.
How could I have forgotten this?
the let’s-pretend-I’m-a-goddess asked.
She was visiting – on vacation –
taking care of this swell hundred acres
this lush land of trees and vineyards
fruit orchards and ponds
whilst the owner – her dear friend –
was out on a mission.
All she really had to worry about
he had said
was making sure the lands got a good drink of water
Every now and again.
A thunderstorm will do the trick!
And they’re so much fun.
You just push the button – here!
And he showed her where it was located.
Rumble rumble rumble
They heard in the distance
And they laughed.
Well he left.
And she was happy there in the sweet smelling air
eating apples
eating plump peaches ripened in the sun
and chilled in a nearby stream
the sweet juices running from her fingers
which she washed in the same aforementioned stream.
She watered regularly – she marked it on her calendar –
but come to find out
she didn’t really like the rain falling hard
and all the thunderous noise -
Because she didn’t like getting her new shoes wet
And she had very sensitive ears.
And the neighbors complained about rainy days, too.
They were not very happy when their plans were postponed
because of an ordinary rain shower.
So the not really a goddess but lets pretend anyway young woman
slowed down on the rain.
She didn’t want to worry the neighbors.
The people loved the weather.
It’s like we’re living in LA – they said
(‘LA’ now, no longer called los angeles –)
Beautiful sunny weather!
The would-be goddess was smart though
and knew that the production of peaches and grapes
and the happiness of trees depended on quenching their thirst for water.
Ping!
She had a great idea.
Hoses – hoses fascinated her.
She loved hoses how they curled and looped and stretched out and how water could be carried – for miles even! In a good hose.

So she found a warehouse that had stored lots of hoses
and she made sure every tree was watered.
No one had to worry about rain now. All was provided for in a creative, non-irritating way.
Put up those umbrellas Forever!
She was so pleased, really enjoying her vacation
In the swell acres. Though she worried a bit
The owner had been gone a long time
And she could not leave unless and until he returned…

Meanwhile
Back at the ranch
The crops fared pretty well for some time
some years even
but the whole picture of the 100 acres was flagging a bit.
Some of the critters and birds were missing and when she asked
the remaining birds what was up
they said well there’s not enough to eat any more for all of us.
We can’t feed our babies any more.

To make a long story short –
She learned from the birds and hedgehogs
Trees need rain. Not just water.
The caterpillars and little beetles
the lichens and tasty fungi
that once thrived on the bark of the trunk, the branches,
the undersides of the leaves had disappeared once the water was
only delivered to the roots via hoses.
She had forgotten the tree is the center of life for lots of plants and little creepy things and ants and wildlife. One big old half-rotting half-thriving tree that used to be a booming city was now dry. (Or chopped down, even, but that’s another story.)

It had been so long since a thunderstorm had barreled through.
The neighbors grew alarmed when the failure-as-a-goddess
invited one in. ‘The wind!’ they said. ‘The terrible noise!’ ‘The puddles on the streets! It’s a flood - ’

Nonetheless. They got used to it. They liked how the rain washed their cars for free. And… they actually felt better after a storm – more alive and happy.

Some of the familiar birds and bugs didn’t come back, but some others showed up, looking for food and shelter, and the hundred acres – no longer lush still, but getting kind of interesting – made a come-back. (How’s that for a long sentence!?)

The gal who was tired of the goddess role gave the hoses away, and they were used to help refill the river and lake that had dried up in her adventure.

Where was the original owner? When could she leave? She felt chained to this vacation spot.

One day, a wise young toad (there were no old ones yet) sat next to her at the stream. She came to understand the hundred acres would get on just fine and dandy in her absence – that there was a greatness of spirit that ran through them all if they didn’t get too whiny and greedy and the rain would come with or without her calendar and the rainstorm button –

She left the owner a note on the dining room table – should he ever return -