rain rain go away

Back home we pray for rain. We love it and fear it and see it in a rosy light because we so seldom get it. Here, it's different. Here, it's getting wierd. Here, it's getting to flood stages, to the wierd place of wet air and wet grass. I'm not used to the grass being green at this time of year anymore. I've grown accustomed to it being brown and crunchy in most places, with the sprinkler circles of bright, bright green where the only water hits.

I am glad for the rain. I missed hearing the rain sounds on the window in the middle of the night, which soothes me back to sleep. Tiffany has never really known it. And yet... I long for the desert and the mountains and the ocean that I can see and smell all in one breath.