by Diana Pasquini, San Juan Ridge Family Resource Center
“I am the Poem of the Earth, said the voice of the rain”.......Walt Whitman
Bearing water lifted to the skies halfway around the world, the clouds come rolling in. Watching the skies darken, feeling the air turn heavy, catching a distinctive scent reawakens a familiar giddiness. We feel it in our bones. Then, tap..tap..tap..we hear it on our rooftops, like a whole herd of reindeers’ hooves on Christmas Eve. Is there a more sublime moment?
These are not the drama queens of spring, noisily blowing in on brash and showy thunderbolts. Autumn rainfalls make their entrance heralded by the bugling of graceful sandhill cranes. Thirsty trees raise their limbs to embrace their liquid reassurance. Squirrels scurry to their nests as we scramble for tarps. The first rain of autumn has fallen and the world seems somehow better.