A paper boat, how dreamy how wonderful things would be if we could just set sail on one. To voyage out to distant lands, maybe out to a place where the wild things are. When I was little I remember my teacher reading to us Sadako and the 1000 paper cranes, a story of a little girl in Hiroshima. She was making 1000 paper cranes to try to stave off her death from Leukaemia caused from radiation from the atomic bomb. One version says she only made 644 before she died and her friends completed the others and buried them with her. I had always wanted to do the same.
As my city was awash with rain, sweltering with 97% humidity we all complained of wet clothes, damp and just not drying even indoors, sticky floors my smoke alarm going off at the slightest boiling of water for tea. I made paper boats to sail down the gutters on my street bright and cheery, we wet our hair and our clothes we didn't mind it was warm. My baby only rarely having felt the rain on her skin was dripping, sopping wet the shrieks of joy the smiles from ear to ear a joy to see. My clothes clinging to my skin my bra visible through my t shirt, I didn't care this was play, play with my children wild and freeing. These colourful boats rushed along the gutter bumped against one another then glided freely again. My 7 year old asked "will the rain ever stop?"
I wondered myself. It had been steadily raining for six days, it sure seemed like it would never stop. How must they be feeling in those small towns in Queensland, this steadily rushing stream in my street would be nothing compared to what they had seen there. We had dry clothes inside, towels and more paper to make more boats, our boats tattered and tore along the drain as the cranes were meant to as they are strung together and kept outdoors as a wish for recovery from illness or injury. If only things were so simple a 1000 paper boats would fix everything in those little towns.