Tis the season. Sonoma County beckoned the Rain God and because she had been on a long hiatus due to her last outpouring, she overreacted and soaked the valley with a deluge not seen for years. Naysayers lament that this is not enough to make up for her sustained absence. But the Rain Dancers who wooed her into compliance disagree.

“This will end it all,” said Lillith, her lips curling into an enigmatic smile.

“No way,” chipped in Simon, still wearing sunshades in defiance of the prolonged wet spell.

“I think you’re both nuts!” exclaimed Marion, her I-phone ever at the ready. “It says here that the amount we’ve seen so far is only a drop in the drought bucket. It will do more damage than good.”

“What d’ya mean Marion?” asked Chuck, “seems to me that Mother Earth always provides enough of everything to sustain life.”

“Yes,” agreed Lillith with a toss of her thick black curls. “Chuck’s right. I’ve been around long enough to see that all things survive, even in chaotic situations. When it floods, the rivers, lakes and streams hoard the water. These watersheds provide water, often referred to as the nectar of the gods, in quantities sufficient to quench the thirst of all living creatures." 

“Well, what about those who dwell in the world’s deserts? i’ve seen many pictures of brown babies whose lips were caked with sand, eyes and stomachs bulging from the effects of starvation and dehydration. What about them?” Chuck’s voice grew louder with each word, and his posture was that of a wildcat poised for attack.

“Chuck’s right,” said Simon. “When you look at certain geographic areas, you wonder how they’ve managed to survive in the first place. There are the challenges of the extreme temperatures, sandstorms, and a paucity of water.”

What say you, heirs of sustained existence? Is survival inherent in our genetic make-up, or are we destined to erase one another as our current leadership disembowels all decency?