God’s Country.

Light pours over the land. As it breaks a constant earthly boundary, the Orb reveals all. At first it actually feels lower than your feet, a result of the land dropping away in all directions. Quickly she lifts high, though, and long-armed shadows stretch from every house and building, John Deere and Ford, mailbox and lonely tree, cow and wheat stalk. The world groans awake from north to south, from sloping lip to sloping lip. Cattle blink, horses stamp, stoplights stop blinking, and tired men stretch into their boots and eggs. Darkness seems to last but an instant in this country.

Work begins. The beasts need fed, and so do the yields. Roads must be built, drywall raised, products sold, and food prepared. No matter the task, all need completed soon. The Great Light assumes her position above it all as the shadows shorten. All dwelling beneath her know that her medicine is a pill to be taken with caution. She sheds light and life, but once her peak is reached, with her heat pushing down like a great kiln, the light is already half gone. Water jugs seem to be sapped by her scorching rays as man and beast flee from her whenever able. The very air burns.

Light strikes a lake. Physical bonds break and liquid becomes gas. Heat pulls water from ground and plants alike. The pattern as old as time begins to unfold its mysteries on the Colorado plains. The droplets gather in the sky and cool. Workers look up and beg each fluffy pillow to move their way, to act as their personal awning for a time. Clouds collide and darken over and over. Watchful eyes glance carefully, judging distance, time, strength. Slowly the behemoth begins to move. Inertia sees to its direction from the beginning. Flashes of light grow ever nearer and thunder rolls like a bowling ball. Horses begin to neigh and dogs grow restless as the early afternoon becomes night almost instantly. A train rolls into town from the west and water plinks from its side onto the steaming rails.  Another train barrels in behind this one, growing ever closer. But the second shows no signs of stopping, indeed it picks up speed and fury on the approach. Thunder ripples through the valley.

Oh prairie rain! Oh farmer’s prayer delivered!
Sweet sweat from the brow of the Lord!
Crashing down upon the parched land, your torrent is a welcomed blight.
Our very bodies soak your glory up like forgotten sponges.
Thankful as they are, respect must be paid. The power of this irritable guest must not be scorned. As if to remind the land-dwellers of such, the titanic beast strikes the earth. His winds whip the trees, his icy fists punch with vigor. He displays his might through a light and sound show unsurpassed by man.
Flash, Crash.
Blind, Deaf.
Glint, Din.
Roar after roar he lets fly, making rafters and hearts of stern-faced men shutter all the same. Life ceases until the leviathan has had his say.

And the deluge lifts. The tumult again becomes a distant bowling alley. And yea, the Sun! Descending now from behind the darkness. She throws her light upon the aftermath as all living things shake off and stir once more. Life seems new. Water drips from all the leaves. The dust has become luscious soil. Damage looks fixable. Even the trucks are clean. Time to get back to work before that western edge swallows the light. There are stables to clean, trenches to dig, roasts to broil, weeds to pull, boards to sell, and paperwork to finish. All will be done in time. And what of that horizon, as it beckons to the falling sun? It will cast its own, encompassing shadow soon, but the abyss will only stay a fleeting moment. Remember that in this country the summer days seem longer than the nights, the earth falls off a bit at the edges, and the sky looms larger than the land.