It's rainy season. Generally, the rainy season begins in May with light showers that blow in, drop their liquid contents and blow out within an hour or so. Sometimes these showers are preceded with tremendous lightening and thunderstorms. We will see mountains of thunderheads building in the northwest over the Pacific, the sky darkens and forks of lightening will strike down to the surface of the Gulf. The windows may shudder with the vibrations of the thunder and flashes of light cause an instant blindness. The rain will follow and fall with such intensity onto the roof that casual conversation is drowned out. Within a short time, the clouds tumble along on their path to another destination, the sky clears to blue and sunshine covers the land.
It is the first day of October, now the real rainy season begins. Awaking to clear blue skies is a rarity now rather than the norm. It can rain all day and all night with a few breaks under overcast skies. The quality of the rain varies. This morning, I walked the dogs up the road under a light sprinkle. My clothes were slightly damp after 40 mins of walking. During breakfast, the rain pummeled the roof so hard that M and I paused our conversation until the shower passed. The intensity of passing showers will dial up or wind down like a volume control. Later today when the precipitation lightens to a mist, we will head outside to work around the property. M is busying chopping back the madera negra trees growing near the fruit trees. Madera negra is a fast growing tree that releases nitrogen into the soil when a limb is chopped. Then the limb can be stuck into the dirt and it will grow into another tree.
Sometimes it is difficult to discern if it is actually raining or the sound of falling rain is the water dripping through the leaves of the trees that surround our property. I now understand the term "rainforest." The rain from the sky can end, yet the residual water that is caught in the leaves of the forest jungle can "rain" for a long time later.
The shur-shurring of water sliding down the long green leaves of the immense diversity of trees that ring the edge of our property is a gentle whisper. I can fully comprehend the devastation of deforestation by the example of this rainforest. The trees are a water catchment system. The thousands of square meters of the leaf surfaces capture and slowly filter untold liters of rain. The forest slows down the rate of impact of the water into the ground. The plants with their long roots living under the canopy absorb and direct all this water deep under the surface of the top soil. Without trees, there is no undergrowth. Without undergrowth, there is bare earth. Rain hitting bare earth just runs along the surface taking any valuable top soil with it. When the sun hits bare earth, it bakes like clay preventing any chance of green growth.
The creeks that border the eastern and western edges of the property are running fast now. The surging of water over the broken rock surfaces complements the whispering of the rainforest. Where the two creeks converge at the bottom of the property, like the point of an arrow, the water drops away down a sheer rock face. From the path carved through the jungle on the lower half of our land, we can walk down to see the water fall.
Always a happy day to see these creeks running. During the last dry season (December to March),the country experienced its worst drought in 40 years. Both these creeks dried up. Not a drop of water ran over these falls. It was a frightening sight. Fortunately, our water source did not dry up where some of our neighbors did. I'm convinced that it is the forest that surrounds our water source collecting and storing the scarcity of moisture during that time that allowed our water source to continue to trickle.
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