“Blessed relief,” says a low and rumbling whisper, a long way off.
We try not to listen to that siren song – not to allow ourselves the misspent luxury of hope.
We know those clouds. We know their beguiling charms, their empty promises.
Against our better judgement though, when the whispers have turned to roars that rattle our chests, and our resolve, we begin to think, “maybe, just maybe.”
We don’t say it out loud.
The cicadas say it for us – scream it for us. They, in their leafy lookouts are at a fever pitch, a frenzy wrought in summer’s forge.
The air above the black top dances, oily and hypnotic, but we will not be persuaded to think it – that it smells like rain.
A sky rippling crack sounds, and the cicadas cease their sputtering petition.
We too hold our breath, and cannot help but smile over
one
small
drop
on sun-baked skin.
We half expect it to sizzle.
Each pair of eyes looks up, pleading now, without pretense.
And then it comes, the rain, this reigning moment of purest pleasure.
Let every living thing rejoice.
{ 34 comments }
Ohhhhhh, we heard the rumble, rumble and saw the dark clouds but not a drop! Bummer.
Thats a beautiful post… I know how it feels to hope for that warm Texas rain. The smell is heavenly!
This is beautiful. You’ve made me wish for a storm; or rather, made me wish that I longed for rain. (We don’t long for rain in the Seattle area…but I know that longing, from long ago times of drought in the Midwest.) Beautifully written. Enjoy your storm!
This is beautiful. You’ve made me wish for a storm; or rather, made me wish that I longed for rain. We don’t long for rain here in the Seattle area, but I know that longing, from long ago days of drought in the Midwest.
Beautifully written. Enjoy your storm!
the cicadas are screaming here too, but I just missed the rain. That photo is priceless. Totally captures the joy that is rain in the southwest and Texas.
Oh, such a beautiful post! So poetic and mesmerizing! I LOVE your writing!
We’re also hoping for rain here in south Texas. We’ve had a few false starts, but then that’s the way it is in Texas. We can only hope.
That picture is priceless! One for the memory books.
oh yes the rain is beautiful here too! although we need it a lot more than we let on! Even though its winter down here in Australia we are still happy to see the rain!
Can you please send some our way? We’d love a bit more than the tease of grey skies and soft rumbles.
Rejoice indeed!! I’m going to read this every time it rains here. Writing and photo, exquisite.
i’m tellin’ you , you could sell the stuff you write! this was beautiful! absolutely! and your pictures , ahhh!
How is it possible that you just made an Oregonian hungry for rain? Amazing…
wow! oh. my. gosh. this is absolutely amazing. you really should publish this professionally or something… your writing is such a pleasure to read. i totally could imagine everything. i lived in kansas when i was young and the cicadas are one of the sounds i miss the most… i love your descriptions…
and i love that photo!
Some days you make me laugh. Some days I nod in agreement. Some days I grin in rueful acknowledgement. Some days I cry becuase I know just how you feel, and you’ve expressed mother-love so well. Today you are a poet.
Amazing post. ~ R.
Beautiful writing, beautiful picture! We had rain all day yesterday, and my daughter would have loved to do exactly what your kids were doing – she calls it taking a bath in the rain!
that picture is just full of life and feeling… big thumbs up from my closet
ahhh, summer!
You said it so perfectly. Finally with the little amounts of rain we have had the grass has turned from crispy brown to green and all of the flowers have begun to bloom. It’s waiting patiently after that first drop for it to pour down. It’s the waiting that hurts.
Whew! That was so beautiful I didn’t breath until the end. And then I thought I might see Maya Angelou’s name. But, of course, I did not. You are an amazing woman, Miss Stefani.
I remember this palpable feeling of waiting from my time in Arkansas. One of the more powerful memories I have.
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
In North Texas, we are still waiting. Still hoping. The clouds form. The sky rumbles. We stand outside and watch but they move past. The rain falls south of us or maybe west of us. Some falls north of us where my oldest is at camp for the week. Nothing here though.
Beautiful Stephanie. So beautiful!
Emily Dickenson would be proud to call you a fellow poet…beautiful.
That is exactly how i feel…what happened to everyday afternoon showers. I miss them!
Your words are so strong and beautiful and if you are not a published author…I must ask…WHY?
Just poetic. I can smell the rain from here.
wow! Your words filled my heart! I can smell the rain!!!
Rain and boys in the summertime…so much fun!
Beautifully said.
Oh, my. Looove this picture. Wouldn’t mind some of that rain, either.
We feel the same way a lot around here… you put it so eloquently!
Man. Everything you write is just poetry. I can actually feel and smell the rain. It’s amazing the way you do that.
Makes me remember the warm summer monsoon rains growing up in the Valley of the Sun (Phoenix). The smell of oncoming rain is intoxicating!
i love this picture! your photographs are always very beautiful!
beautifully written. and now I want rain, too
Whew!
Same here, so far north… we were so happy when the clouds broke open.
In some roundabout link clicking, I stumbled across your beautiful blog, and it’s now a favorite. I love your prose and your photography. I’m relatively new to the blogging world, but appreciate your vision.
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