It finally rained last night. I couldn’t sleep. I was lying in bed with a headache—I should have known then; I always get a headache before a storm. I couldn’t quite fall asleep because of these flashes in my window which kept waking me up right as I was drifting off. It was annoying. I pulled up my blinds and looked out the window. No cars. It was silent.
The flashes kept on coming, and I could never spy what made them. Always, I would lay back down only for a new flash to come. Then I realized, as I heard a rumbling, what those flashes were: Lightning and thunder.
I pulled myself out of my bed, and wandering out to the deck, I stood in the storm. It was a dry storm, and my heart fell a little. I had so wanted it to rain. The fires and the smoke were suffocating, and all I wanted was some rain. I kept praying for the rain as I wandered back to my room. Sleepy, I lay in my bed, but the dreams wouldn’t come.
Then, I don’t know when it happened, I heard it, that most welcomed din, that beloved droning, the sound of the rain beating upon my roof. Throwing on some clothes, I wandered in the night. I stepped out again into the storm, and was cleansed by its water, bathed by the weeping sky.
I praised God for the rain.
Tale Told 