It has been so terribly dry recently. So many plants have died or sacrificed most of their leaves just to survive. The ground was cracking in places, and I was uselessly spreading mulch to retain moisture that wasn’t there. I wished it would rain. I wished it would rain. And then came an exciting afternoon of thunder and lightening. I walked home below flashes and crashes and made it to the door just before the rain came. Good long steady rain. All day and all night for a whole week. I have a mountain of washing to do, but there is no point because it won’t dry. The carpet feels slightly damp underfoot and his study smells musty. I wish it would stop raining. I wish it would stop raining. It doesn’t matter that I’ve changed from wishing it would rain, to wishing it would stop because my wishes don’t impact the rain.
I saw some actors pretending to be a rainy storm in a play recently. Fingers clicking at the end of falling arms made the path and noise of raindrops. Wonderful.