Beloved, Let Us Once More Praise the Rain

Conrad Aiken described Monday's rain perfectly in this poem. We were first treated to a dazzling show complete with window-rattling thunderclaps and lightening bolts illuminating the whole horizon. A long, soaking rain followed, satisfying the garden for at least a couple of days. No amount of watering, by hand or with the drip system, can wake the garden like a deep rain. The colors are all saturated, the leaves plumped and ready to face what promises to be another week of hot weather, and the sky cleared of the ever present summer haze and remnants of smoke from a nearby forest fire.

The garden and I were both heat weary. Truly I do praise the rain.