Dark clouds roil and tumble to the north and west. They inch across the sky, casting a dark gray pallor over the landscape. Wind whips branches against branches, and shakes the leaves on the trees and shrubs. Thunder rolls overhead, startling the dogs as they chew their elk antlers. Tiny flashes of lighting can be seen in the distance.
And of course there’s the smell. Rain. Finally.
We need it so badly. We haven’t had more than a spit in weeks. Grass is turning brown, plants look wilted, the ground is crunchy. And it’s so. dang. hot.
Radar shows storms blowing right over us. My Accuweather app says there will be a “break in the rain in five minutes.”
But it’s not raining.
And it probably won’t, if history has anything to tell us. We have watched with disappointment summer after summer as storms seem to form all around us, yet miss us completely.
It’s such a tease. We can smell the rain for crying out loud, but still nothing.
And so we wait.