Rain is grace; rain is the sky condescending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life. John Updike
It rained yesterday. We actually had some rain. Not just a sprinkle, but a real summer shower. The rain was not expected or predicted by the meteorologists. It just fell. And welcome it was.
There was a puddle in the turn-around and the raindrops spashed the water.
The raindrops bounced off the dry pavement and the parched earth.
The raindrops fell on the walk, and made spatters in the bird bath.
It rained on the deck, the umbrella and dusty table and chairs. Mother Nature giving everything a bath.
The rain blew against the windows. From the bridge above the great room, the trees outside the window had a mystical look. The rain on the window turned the outside world into a painting. What a joy to behold.
When the rain ended, we were delighted to find that we had received an inch of rain. It isn't much, and it won't end the drought. But it certainly lifted the spirits of this household.
The rain began again. It fell heavily, easily, with no meaning or intention but the fulfilment of its own nature, which was to fall and fall. Helen Garner