Sweet sound- the pattering of the rain. Actually its more a pinging
in this house, as the drops hit the metal vent on the roof. No matter-
its a signal that the drought is breaking- this pinging went on all
night. I look out across the yard to the fields beyond, drinking in
the long overdue moisture. Harvest may be fruitful after all. Last
night I kept waking myself to listen for it- and, reassured, would
drop back off to sleep. Reminds me of the way I used to be reassured
by the breathing of my babies when we first brought them home, and put
their crib in our room at night for the first few months. Maybe we'll
be OK this year.
The people in town, conversely, have loved the unbroken sunny
weather- it brings more tourists, and the heat brings them in for a
break, to browse the crafts, to suck soda from straws, to slurp their
cones. I remind myself of three years ago when the rain wouldn't quit,
and washed out our crops as effectively as the drought was wilting
them until yesterday. And the folks in their shops, when the heat hits
95 or so, fewer tourists come- especially when the heat index is over
a hundred, like it was the last couple of weeks. They say it all
depends on ocean currents in the Pacific. They say that global warming
may be responsible for bringing El Nino into play for four straight
years in the early nineties, an unprecedented spell, leading to floods
in the Midwest, and drought out west. And "he" is back again this
year. But the world leaders can't agree on steps to take to slow
global warming- or even that such an effect is taking place. I can't
get over this. At church, many folks pray for the right balance in the
weather. I pray for the strength to deal with whatever may come.