friday, june 8. noonish.
the floor of the sky has broken. the bottom, as they say, has "fallen out." the rain falls first in heavy, solid sheets, next in big fat drops, then on the ground it breaks into lots of smaller droplets that bounce back upwards and land on my bare arms and legs. it is bruising the lavender and releasing its earthy, medicinal scent. it smells...new. my hair is recoiling from the moisture in the air and forming tiny little curls above my ears. my toes are wet and shiny. cool air is swirling about, lightning visiting now and then, heavy thunder lolling above the shelter of clouds.
the cat is probably under the cloak of the tablecloth upstairs, her back safely to the wall, poised and ready to pounce on this big noise that is finally coming to get her. the sand that i just finished pouring in between the flagstone and sweeping carefully into its little channels between now bears litle round marks where the rain has fallen. suddenly it all looks more vibrant green up in the treetops, and the birds sound more glad than ever to be alive. the thirsty earth soaks up the great gift of rain with a unanimous sigh..."thank you, Father, thank you."
a song is playing now and it says "let the rain pour down, find yourself buried in the sound." funny thing is, the rain was so deafening that i had to wait until the third chorus so that i could tell that was what was really being said. the lightning is still around but the rain has let up so that now it falls with a soft patter on the leaves...the millions upon millions of leaves...wow, that's a lot of leaves, leaves that i take for granted until they begin to dance with the raindrops in delicate, haphazard motions.
when this rain has passed, a mist will hang in the air, reminding us of the blessing it brought: water for the earth, food for my soul, deep breaths and sighs heavy with relief and gratitude. He knows what we need, and gives it so graciously to us in perfect time.
