It has rained here in the North Georgia mountains--heaven--for the last ten days. Nonstop.
As a people of the Word, we're working on the Forty Days of Old. We're just not there yet, Noah.
The nearby Chestatee River hasn't flooded. Yet.
But it will.
And when it does, Noah's flood will look like a fine mist.
The Chestatee starts in the northeast corner of Lumpkin County, near Turner's Corner and Coppermine, then runs near Dahlonega, bypassing Crown Mountain and winding south toward Gainesville, twenty-one miles away.
I am telling you this so you'll know where to look for me when you organize the search party.
I have a creek running through my back yard which will probably crest sometime tonight or tomorrow. Then it will have me. Hopefully I won't be there when it decides to claim its property.
The forecast calls for between one and five inches of rain by this time tomorrow, when the showers are supposed to end. That'll be plenty, thank you.
I saw the sun for about thirty seconds Saturday afternoon. I started to send the doves out to find dry land, but called them back. It wasn't time yet.
It's pouring outside as I write this. Really.
"Come-here's" (as opposed to "been-here's") don't know diddly about driving in the rain. Or the snow. I can't wait until winter, which my friend Brent (the weather authority) told me this morning was, according to the Almanac, supposed to be "cold and wet".
Driving in this weather will be a cakewalk compared to January 2010 if his forecast holds true. Which it surely will, because the Almanac don't lie. I planted white half-runners at Mama's by it and got a bumper crop.
I remember sitting in Mama's lap when I was a little boy and the rain peppering our driveway. She told me it was little children on their way to church. That's all I remember, but it's a good memory.
If that rain was going to church, this one's a Billy Graham crusade.
I just wish they'd all get there, get saved, and let the sun shine.