It’s been raining at the ranch for the last few days.
Raining, and thundering, and pouring and flooding and rushing the creekbeds.
And smelling so sweet.
So although I’m an outspoken fan of the sun, I know this is necessary. I know this is what spring does.
So I say bring it on. Let the heavens pour down and wash that winter away. Wash it clean and squeaky. We’ve been frozen and thirsty and our hair needs washing…
the worms need air…
the lilacs need watering…
the horses need waking up.
Rain sky. Cry it out. Turn the brown neon and make the flowers hunch over under the weight of your necessary presence.
I don’t mind. Really. I will stand in it all day.
I’ll splash in your puddles, let it soak in my skin, slide down the clay buttes, jump over the rushing streams. Because I forgot what this feels like, being soaked to the core and warm in spite of it.
I forgot what it looks like when the lighting breaks apart the sky.
I forgot how the thunder shakes the foundation of this little house, how it startles me from sleep and fills my heart with a rush of loneliness, a reminder that the night carries on while I’m sleeping.
I forgot how clean it smells, how green the grass can be, how many colors are in a rainbow.
So go on. Rain.
Rain all you want.
Rain forever on this hard ground and turn this pink road red..
This brown ground green
Let your drops encourage the fragile stuff, the quiet beauty that has been sleeping for so long to wake up and show her face to the sky.