Walk through the bottomland

Today I bought some wet weather boots. I can't believe I've gone so many years without a pair. I've had some cute little wet weather mocs which did keep my feet dry but did nothing to keep my cuffs from dragging in the mud. I have a two great pairs of snow boots, one for work and the other perfectly suited for walking through the snowdrifts in the tundra. I'm always afraid of having cold feet so I prepare well for any possible blizzards. But proper rubber boots are what I needed today when I went for a walk in our rain sodden woods. I borrowed a pair of my daughter's which were a bit large, but I returned home with dry tootsies and clean pant legs. Yes, it was time to go to the local farm supply emporium to buy my very own pair of what we refer to as gum boots. The farm supply place's stock was picked over and all they had were tall boots in large sizes. Being a short sized person, the tall boots greatly impede my ability to bend my knees. Not a desirable thing for walking in the woods. But the local big box store carried what they call dairy boots which came up to mid-calf and fit. I felt so cool and they were only $14.00. LLBean calls such boots Wellies and charges $49.50.

The recent rains have been most welcome. Our pond is finally full and it's reassuring to see water flowing rapidly down the creek. As the hubster and I enjoyed our morning slosh along the creek, I remembered teaching our children about the Mississippi watershed. They all memorized the progression of the water they saw flowing behind their house into various tributaries of the Wabash River down to the Ohio, on to the Mississippi River, down to the Gulf of Mexico and out into the Atlantic Ocean and the world. Of course the litany grew louder and stronger as we hit the climax of the Atlantic Ocean and the world. Visiting Mud Island in Memphis, we saw the hydraulic model of this same watershed firsthand. I recall watching delighted children splash in the model's "Gulf of Mexico". It's an important lesson for kids and adults to learn that what passes through our little woods doesn't begin or end here. We all need to be reminded that we are a part of something much, much bigger.