After weeks of virtually no rain and days of records setting or near record setting heat, last night I sat hopefully watching the clouds roll in. What a blessing it was to sit outside with a gentle breeze caressing my face.
Sitting there on my porch swing, I felt in tuned with the swaying of the treetops. I was moved as they were moved; at one with the small world of my back yard around me.
However, as the sky got darker, my spirit got lighter. In hope, in anticipation, of rain. How I wanted the life-giving, life-sustaining rain. How the earth cried out for it, thirsty for life.
When it came, it came with a vengeance as if it knew its opportunities were few and far between and it had to make good with the time it had. The first drops splashed off the hard surfaces, washing away the dry dust. Drops gathered together in rivulets. The rivulets sought the easiest path and rushed along filling the cracks and crevices it found along the way. The thirsty earth lapped up what it could while the water rushed by; satisfied for the moment.
Rain, blessed rain!
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