Just a week or two ago, everything was dried up and appeared to be dead. The lack of rain for most of the summer thus far had left its mark. The leaves on the Japanese maple by the back deck were curled and shriveled. Area ponds were reduced to mud puddles. The grass was more brown than green and too scratchy to walk on with bare feet. The river birches, water-loving trees that they are, lost half their foliage, making the driveway look the way it does in the fall - covered in crunchy leaves. In the fall I enjoy the crunch underfoot; but it's not quite the same in July. Walking through fallen leaves may be fun when the air is crisp, but it lacks the thrill when it's 90ºF.
And then... God sent rain.
Wonderful, glorious rain, accompanied by flashes of lighting and rumbles of thunder, to soak the thirsty ground. I lay in my bed and just listened to the sound of the myriad drops sloshing against the windows. When you have not heard that sound in weeks (or was it months?), it's the most refreshing thing in the world.
Things are slowly greening up again; the ponds and streams are once more full of water.
Thou, O God, didst send a plentiful rain, whereby thou didst confirm thine inheritance, when it was weary.