The rains came in, again


It has been as dry as a old smoker’s throat around here. While the east is battling floods, here, we are performing dances to call on the rains, to no avail.

Until the other day.

It started slow and unpleasant, with just a short bit of rain that made the air heavy and warm like an uncomfortable blanket. But then, then things turned and guess where we were?

Rains, soaking into the thirsty soil and washing away the sticky sweat off our bodies, poured out of the sky.

It was a bit cold even, but not cold enough.

After it stopped and towels soaked up the extra moisture, I spread some dry materials on the front porch and Mr.Blab prepared little bowls of mango sorbet to be enjoyed by the wet haired monsters.

(I love this picture)

There is a rare pleasure in watching your children happy. Not just any happy, but raw and wild happy.

We were not the only ones enjoying the splash of fresh air and drips off our bodies. The garden, half dead, felt alive and happy too.

And this is what happens, when the rains come in.

The End.

overly processed to protect the fella's dignity