My favorite part of tonight was watching the rain turn the screens in the window to sparkling treasures of light and diamonds. With the blinds slightly open and all the lights off, the sound of the rain outside is soothing and makes me miss the Midwest deep in the pit of my stomach.
I have grown to love this tree-infested area, but there are nights when the winds are blowing, the lightning flashes, and the rain pours; and I get a hankering for a Midwestern squall. The kind that reminds you that you are "not in Kansas anymore." The kind that makes you thirsty just listening to it. The kind that makes you shudder with its ferocity, but also take comfort in the drink of water the Earth is getting.
In The Rainmaker, the characters spend most of the movie trying to bring water to a drought-stricken area. When the rain finally does start to pour at the end, you can't wait to quench your own thirst; and yet your emotions well up and pour out of you. The Spirit of the Beehive also leaves your throat begging for water.
I have a bunch of posts I've been working on, but nothing I have finished because I have so much to say. The silence is nearly killing me, so here is a brief sip to quench the drought since I last wrote. There will be more soon, probably a deluge, but until then, you'll just have to content yourself with water droplets on a window screen.