“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


last year it was the stuff of prayers

wednesday night the rains came.  i left work through the back door and found a black cloud filling the sky to the south, my direction home, and when i passed the white church steeple on the corner, against all  that darkness, i wished i'd brought my camera, but i hadn't, so never mind.  i was home in a minute and in another minute standing under the gathering storm, in the wind, tree limbs creaking overhead. you have to do this you know, especially if you live here, and you remember last summer when the rain wouldn't come, when just a bit of wind made your heart race with anticipation.

but this year came the rain.  fast and wild and crazy.  and this year came the wind.  i stood in the house and watched trees throw limbs into a neighbor's back yard, watched the rise of the water in the creek.  the normal trickle of two or three inches was suddenly quickly 5 or 6 feet deep, rushing madfully joyfully happy happy, growing deeper by the minute, soon to the top of the surrounding rock walls, a good 8 feet or so.  the front yard was flooded, the street underwater, and i was torn between joining in the madness or staying in the house, hoping my kitchen wouldn't flood.  the madness won, and i was soon outside with katie, umbrellas overhead, both of us splashing in pink rain boots; her husband was barefoot, traipsing through the almost knee high water, video camera in hand.  neighbors moved their vehicles from possible damage, and just like that, just that quick, the water began to recede, the storm grew quiet, the sky lightened, and my kitchen didn't flood.  the bridge across the creek was once again passable.

last year it was the stuff of prayers.

it is still rainy.  still overcast.  the mosquitoes will drive us crazy and the humidity will bring more fleas.  the air conditioner isn't sure what to do.  my barefoot toes are a tad chilly in the house, but if i make the house warmer, the stickiness is almost unbearable.  thank you, god.  thank you, universe.



  1. So happy you had some rain and were out there enjoying it too.

  2. there's nothing like a storm for clearing away the debris of a soul.

  3. ..your descriptions of the desparately needed and welcomed rain
    makes rain, ordinary rain, take on a whole new persona. i am
    grateful you got rain..
    in fondest. tilda

  4. Yeah! Pretty wonderful! I'm glad you played like a child. Wheeeeee!

  5. i remember last year. texas. wildfires. evacuations.
    i remember the concern.
    i remember talking with my sister over in hill country, her friends taking her in....

    may you have plenty of rain this year. and be safe. amen.

  6. Hurray for rain in Texas! I remember hearing about last summer, how hot and dry everything was and for soooo loooong. A friend told me that it nearly drove her and her family crazy, hiding away indoors, watching everything dry up outside. So hurray for rain in Texas this summer! And yes, it's a good reason for a celebratory rain dance outside!


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