I’ve never lived more than a few miles from
a body of water. When I was born it was
the Hudson River. In Florida, there was
more water than land and I lived in
perpetual fear of alligators. In Syracuse,
the Erie Canal’s fish hung from my bicycle
most summers. In California, there are
numerous dry beds labeled river which
would cause concern except for the
Pacific Ocean, the biggest thing on the planet
always a half-hour car ride away.
There has never been a time I couldn’t
cleanse myself in a living body of water
on the same day I thought to do so.
Still, the news tells us water is not a given
and the company that sends it through our pipes
has been clear it won’t last forever.
So we’re letting the lawn go and giving in
to the desires of only the least thirsty plants.
The icebergs are melting and the politics of it
doesn’t look good. We were promised nourishment
from the sea but the offer may have timed out.
As for the other part of the promise, when I was a boy
and excited about the potential of treasures
found in the sand, the bigger issue was we couldn’t
afford a metal detector. Eventually, I found employment
and didn’t need one. Sometimes we need to make our
own treasures. The lottery isn’t going to win itself.
I don’t think it’s even trying. So keep digging.
Just maybe not in the sand. Whatever you need
is worth the effort.