Clearly, Water

Dihydrogen monoxide: essential, yet deadly. What other substance on earth has claimed so many lives and fueled so many bitter conflicts? We often take it for granted, but we can’t go a week without it. There are nefarious souls who would bottle it up at the natural source and sell it back to us at a profit, and we are eager to buy, as if replenishing ourselves from anything that might have touched the ground and gone unsanitized by man is distasteful and tastes bad. The irony of it is, we’ve done much to ensure the truth of that.

Gray, chilly, and drizzling. That’s the weather, here. The clouds are drab and thick with unshed rain. Now and then, they drift, heave a sigh, and drip.


Moss, Anticipating Rain

Moss, Anticipating Rain

Thirsty green things unfurl to catch raindrops in cupped leaves.

Moss is fascinating to feed, droplet by tiny droplet, under a microscope. It opens to absorb moisture, then closes again when it’s had enough. It grows dry and sparse and brown when there’s a drought, but it always comes back. Houston’s one of the few places on earth where I’ve seen concrete turn green from growing things in the humidity.


Water droplets gather on leaves.

Water droplets gather.

The pale, dull greens take on deeper, more vivid hues. Water droplets gather and slide towards stems, running in wet rivulets to waiting roots.

White blossoms with purple anthers stretch their petals wide in anticipation. Everything is damp. A lone, black legged and crimson Assassin bug waits patiently. The first few drops begin to fall in earnest as the wind ruffles the leaves of the trees like a playful lover.


A bright red and black Assassin Bug waits for rain.

Still, silent – this afternoon’s showers have renewed activity in strange places, like the weighted base of a neglected basketball hoop.

Rainwater collects life, just as life collects rainwater.

Rainwater with Snail

Can you spot the snail? Rainwater collects life in the base of a neglected basketball hoop.

So photogenic, I forgot to pick it to spice up lunch!

A ripe, red Pequin pepper. So photogenic, I forgot to pick it to spice up lunch!

These tiny peppers are hot! And they look like sunshine to my rain-drenched eyes. I am so ready to see the sun again.

Even if it’s just a peek, a furtive glimpse – like this photo of my next door neighbor’s pond and waterfall in the back yard:


Through a knothole in our shared fence, I can see just the tiniest glimpse of the waterfall that’s over there babbling away.

Time to head indoors, as the temperatures begin to plummet.

Watery bamboo swamps are good places for ninjas to hide:


He doesn’t hide as well as he thinks he does. And I know he’s saying “Hi,” not getting ready to throw his ninja star at me… right?


He has turned up in the oddest places, over the years. I don’t remember, now, where he came from, but he has managed to avoid “toy heaven” all this time, so I figured  – hey, he’s purple – he deserved to be retired with a little dignity.

Very little, but fortunately, purple ninjas don’t whine. They just drink your wine when you’re not looking. They’re very stealthy, and their purple color lets them hide among the grapes.


Bamboo Roots, looking like a tangle of human hair or a map of the human brain’s activity.


Deep below the surface water he hides in, and the rocks that he climbs, the bamboo shoots out roots that look like a map of brain activity. It’s amazing how some plants seemingly thrive on nothing but water, much the way some people thrive on nothing but hot air.

I was born near the ocean, in the month of March. Pisces is a water sign, and my birthstone is aquamarine. Is it any wonder I love the water?



Holly Jahangiri is the author of Trockle; A Puppy, Not a Guppy; Innocents & Demons; and A New Leaf for Lyle. You can find her books on Amazon at For more information on her children's books, please visit
Please share this post!

13 thoughts on “Clearly, Water”

    1. And you need a shorter name… 😉 Thanks, Roy! The polar molecule has just blown in, I think – it may not pass Houston’s gates, and may blow through above us. But the winds are wicked fierce and swirling down my chimney. I just want to burrow back under the covers and wait for tomorrow. We don’t even get a snow day out of it.
      HollyJahangiri recently posted…Clearly, WaterMy Profile

    1. I might, though our family “curse” is water (which is still better than fire, in my opinion, and probably better than air or earth, come to think of it – imagining how those might manifest). I don’t think I’d enjoy CONSTANT rain, especially this unrelenting, dreary, dull cloud-spitting business – in fact, a week of it is wearing on my nerves, already. I do need sunshine to lift my mood.

      But I LOVE a good thunderstorm. I even kind of enjoyed Hurricane Ike (being far enough inland not to feel its full force). I actually slept through the worst of it, with the wind howling and the trees swaying dangerously and the house being pelted with oranges and grapefruit from the neighbors’ trees. My son and I slept on the floor of the master bathroom, mind you – in case the 7 story pine tree out back fell into the bedroom and gave us an impromptu “skylight.”

      I do love Mother Nature’s vehemence. I would not have loved to have my roof torn off, my home flooded, or my head hit by flying grapefruit. It’s the same way I feel about volcanoes – I’d love to get up close to a lava flow, but don’t REALLY want to risk a leg to one. Close, yes – but I’d stay off a weak crust. 😉
      HollyJahangiri recently posted…Home is in the ImaginationMy Profile

    2. When I say our “curse” is water – imagine this: We once lived in a condo on the 14th floor of a 21-story building. The water tower on the roof leaked. Into our hall closet. I came home to a flood on a beautiful, sunny day and called my parents, and when they said “How much water?” I informed them I could do the backstroke from the kitchen to their bedroom.

      Now, you can imagine my trepidation at the thought of living anywhere that has a “monsoon season.”
      HollyJahangiri recently posted…Home is in the ImaginationMy Profile

  1. Like your comment, “much the way some people thrive on nothing but hot air”. What can we do about it!

    1. I swear, I must live in the wrong part of Houston – it’s still gray and overcast here. That, or our company is projecting that in 3D just outside the window to make us feel better about working through this rare sun event.

Comments are closed.