The weatherman swore that rain would reach southern Ohio yesterday. Depending on who you listened to, it was an eighty to ninety percent probability. I drifted off to sleep Saturday night, excited at the prospects that rain would wash away the pollen, dust and fatigue that had settled in with the 100 plus heat index.

It was still dry when I woke up but it felt like rain. A stiff breeze bent tree limbs, rustling the leaves hard enough to make us think it was just minutes away. And then the breeze moved on, the promise of rain passed, leaving us feeling teased and cheated by Mother Nature. 

I waited all day, reading social media accounts of rain in areas all around. Friends sat on their porches and watched a downpour while others sent their kids out to play in a light shower. Finally, nearing bedtime, I filled my watering cans and headed out to water container plants and some of the younger plants that were looking a little pekid. 

And then it happened. Just after I surrendered to the idea that at least the grass would die before it needs mowing, I heard the hard knocking of a downpour against the windows. It was sudden, overflowing my aging gutters and reminding me of how badly they need to be replaced. It also reminded me of childhood summers when my folks kept a rain barrel and of hot days when my mother would wash my hair in the rain.

Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. The experience is refreshing. 

Isn’t that how life goes? 

You wait for the thing you have no control over but want most. And you wait and wait and wait some more only to not see your wishes realized. And just when you give up, life gives you the thing you hoped for. 

At least the rain came, even if it was a few hours late. A small river flowed through my backyard, washing away the dust and pollen and perhaps even the extreme heat for a little while. All the flowers got a good soaking thanks to Mother Nature’s generosity. It did cool off some. 

For all of this I am grateful.