Let it Rain

MUDDY CREEK, NORTHERN CHEYENNE RESERVATION, MT


I leapt from my chair at the sound of the first few drops splattering on the canopy under which I sat working. I dashed to the tool trailer for a screw gun as the rain began to fall. The "old hands" know this drill all too well, and the new volunteers followed suit. As the light drizzle turned to a steady rain, tarps were unfurled and pulled up and over the exposed straw bale walls. I bent down to screw in tack bars to keep the tarp in place. Wet curls fell around my face, extra screws dangling from my lips. Workers moved frantically around the house, up and down ladders, until every last inch of straw was covered. Cold shirtsleeves clung to my shoulders, and a shiver ran through me as I worked, nothing but adrenaline to keep me warm. We had been tempting fate all morning, working under the shadow of dark clouds, trying to get as much done as possible before the rains fell. Keeping the straw bales dry during the building process is imperative. 


A week has passed now since our frantic tarping exercise, and not another drop has fallen. The house now has it's own roof to keep the bales dry, and in the coming days will be coated in stucco, sealing the bales against moisture in the future. 


The house and our nearby tents are swathed in the smoke from nearby forest fires, and while building a house with one family in desperate need of quality affordable housing, I am acutely aware of the impact of the loss of 60 homes in nearby Ashland. 


With a solid roof, the rising temperatures, and flames on the horizon, I'm crossing all of my fingers that the rain begins to fall again.