Rain, rain, rain!

At long last, and by "long" I mean since the last post I mentioned it in, we have finally gotten a substantial rainfall. Last night, as Tom and I were out bringing in horses, cows and chickens, we noticed the darkening sky. But we've had so many false alarms and storms that went right around us that we weren't convinced we were going to get this one until the first rumble of thunder. When the storm hit, we had horses that didn't want to come in, cows that did but were in the wrong field, and calves that had never seen anything like this. The chickens headed for the safety of their cozy coop, except for the pair of Silkies who just don't seem to have a lot of common sense. They normally sit there and get wet until you fetch them and put them up. Tom and I were drenched and muddy- but didn't mind a moment of it. We had finally, finally gotten some rain.

It occurred to me in a metaphysical sort of insight that rain is liquid life. There is no life anywhere in the world without water (unless you count viruses and spores and they only half count) and it is the universal solvent- the medium through which biochemical reactions occur. Water is the yardstick by which we measure the potential for life on other planets, like ice on Mars. Rivers and tributaries have been the cradles of civilization providing both sustenance and transport. Water (H2O) is a deceptively simple little molecule- two tiny hydrogen atoms ionically bonded to an oxygen atom Mother Ship. If you blew the whole structure up to balloon size and put a string on it, it would look just like a Micky Mouse head without the smile. But from that humble beginning, water's unique properties make it the ebb and flow of every living thing.

Walking back to the house in dark, I was surrounded by the excited trilling of a million toads. As I neared the small herb garden by the house, I was hit by the
sudden, pungent aroma of rosemary and oregano. Even the plants know, at a certain level, that something life-giving and miraculous is happening.

There are probably no people more in tune with the weather than those who live on farms. Okay, maybe sailors, so we'll give them equal billing. But we depend on the rain to replenish our crops and water our animals (and ourselves). We take it for granted until it isn't there. But when it finally arrives after a long absence, it's as if everything takes a deep breath, sighs and renews.

Having said all that, it's hurricane season. If the barns get flooded out, we'll be the first to complain about it.

Droplet photo by hypergurl.com