The weaving studio is in the instructor’s home. There is not enough room near the studio for all the students to park. So we park at a turn-out just off the freeway, near an open field.
It used to be farmland but when it rained the land flooded.
It was suppose to do that. It was part of a natural wetland.
But farming interests thought it was safe. After all, there is such a thing as pumps and there is a creek nearby.
Somewhere along the line, the Nature Conservancy bought the land. It lay fallow for a long time. Then a few months ago, we were forced out of our parking area by big trucks carrying land moving equipment. Our cars, parked a bit away from the giant hulks were covered in dust and hay when we returned to them.
Slowly, over many weeks, the strip of land showed contours and natural grasses. Some new trees had been planted.
And then it rained. Hard. All night.
The weaving parking lot got a first hand view of a gloriously refreshed wetland.
We stood and watched ducks and a blue heron make new homes for themselves.
We got to watch this miracle just because we had gone weaving.