After a long dry spell here in the southeast, we have been under three days of consistent precipitation.
Before the rain began descending, everything green and close to the ground looked stressed, dusty, and tired. Parched and dry, the soil was beginning to reveal ragged cracks, and sight-lines across the pastures shimmered as heatwaves reflected from the earth.
But then the blue heavens above began to lower and turn gray. From the southwest solar winds began to stir. Leafy arms of pines and oaks and sweet gum trees began clapping, and excitedly waving and begging the dark clouds to release their stores. They did, but not in the usual torrential downpour that comes and goes in minutes amid the rage and fury of booms and flashes. Instead, a slow and steady rain began to fall. Just what we needed.
Late this afternoon, the sun began peaking through the breaches in the gray canopy. Dimmed skies, that for days had drizzled much needed rain over The Shire, began to brighten. The jagged gashes in the soil healed. Thousands of water droplets now cling to the leaves of shrubs and flowers and capture today's final silver beams in their liquid capsules. I try to hold them, but they vanish at my touch.