And when the Sun comes out,
After this Rain shall stop,
A wondrous Light will fill
Each dark, round drop…
~William Henry Davies from “The Rain”
I wouldn’t mind mud in August, just once, to see what is brown become lush and green overnight.
How sweet it would be to see copious tears spilling unchecked from a shrouded heaven.
Instead I must settle for one morning of northwest drizzle. An emerging sun illuminates these perfect round spheres with wondrous light as they roll off leaves and petals to huddle puddled together in community on the ground, only to evaporate by mid-day.
However, the wait for rain is never too long in this land of mush and mud ten months out of the year.
Rain will come sooner than I can imagine; soon again I will see a glistening crystalline reflection of the universe in a droplet.
The Living Water is always undimmed, its taste ambrosial.