While going about my afternoon, I’m keeping an ear out and every so often peeking out the kitchen window…

I’m waiting, waiting for it to rain.

Living inland in this wide brown county provides the bitter sweet pleasure of waiting for rain.

Having previously lived all my life near the east coast I’m still entirely surprised by the long patches of dry weather common in these parts, especially during this long and terrible drought.

On the coast, even when rain is predicted, its an entirely different experience.  One is never quite sure if it will come, or when it will come. Cloudy days without rain are common place, weather comes and goes in a constant ever changing drama.

Out here, the weather is ever so stable. Its blue sky – followed by blue sky – followed by more blue sky with a constancy I find reassuring. (Comes in handy with respect to being able to reliably dry laundry too!)

And, out here, when rain is predicted, you know without a doubt that rain is coming, as it is tonight. I’m waiting for it as I write, seeing those deep, deep blue grey clouds emerging on the horizon, gathering overhead with surprising speed, evidently full to the brim of the very thing we so desperately need – water in the form of rain!

Yes, out here when rain is predicted it invariable comes. The only thing being that the land and sky are immense and the rain somewhat fickle, falling as it pleases in patchy, haphazard fashion, such that, even though you may be staring straight up at the darkest rain clouds you’ll ever see,  until those raindrops actually start to fall, you’re never quite sure if it is going fall on your specific patch of dirt – it might just swing right on by and miss you altogether!

As it does indeed tonight.

And such is the humbling experience of living in a place where it is all the more obvious that we live in deep dependance on things beyond our control.

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