There was a whopper of a rainstorm in Dallas recently. We were at our friends’ home, enjoying a little birthday party, and heard a few low growls of thunder in pauses between the chatting and laughter but had no great confidence rain would follow. It’s been overcast or cloudy often enough lately without granting so much of the hoped-for watering as it seems to promise, so we never take it as a given that we’ll be watered nicely. Not, in this instance at least, until the front door smashed open under the force of sideways gales and blasts of firehose rain. Bashed open once, and closed; then, a second time. And latched tight; the neighborhood was pelted well and truly until just a little before we left for home.
At home, it appears, no rain had come at all. Our gardens and spirits remained thirsty. I’m quite certain that a coastal-born person of my Washington upbringing and Scandinavian roots is a little more water-conscious, if not obsessed, than average. But the hints of rain that do arrive here, whether in sky-splitting gouts that last but an afternoon or in a steady series of lightly sprinkling days as we are sometimes blessed to see, are a fairly universally admired gift. And I find that north Texas is hardly alone in this.
The traveling we did this summer in Europe had very few rainy days among the many sun-soaked ones, and while we neither regretted the warmth and light of the sunshine nor bemoaned the drizzling times, we saw plenty of people in Budapest, Vienna, Prague, Stockholm, Port Angeles and Seattle who relished their rain-baths and their waterfront or fountain-side relaxation every bit as much as we did. Even the swans, geese, ducks and waterfowl seemed all the more pleased with their daily peregrinations on the days of and after the rains.
I think that there might be in all of us a certain kind of thirst that mere water only reinforces and reminds us is different from the sense of desire and hope that can fill our spirits. River or fountain, a strong and cleansing rain, ocean or streaming tears of joy, the only water that can quite slake our longing for wholeness and growth and hope is the remembrance that we are primarily made of water ourselves, and as such, will always seek a way to the well or the shore that reassures us we belong.
Art-Colored Glasses 
I hope you get rain where you are soon. I love all the seasons, and I do love rain:)xxx
Well, we’ve had dribs and drabs thus far following that impressive splash down in Dallas, but the good news is that the temperature’s moderated a fair amount as a result of the drizzle and overcast, and *that* is a great gift in itself! Hope all is lovely on your side of the pond!
xoxo
🙂
Interesting reflections on our deep thirst for rain and the nourishment on many levels that it brings to us and life. Seems fitting since we are water bodies on a water filled planet. XD Thankfully we’ve had decent amounts this summer. To rain and nourishment.
Hear, hear! I will gladly toast to that. 😀
One water-baby to another!
xo
Speaking of water, if you haven’t ever (or recently) been to the Water Gardens in Fort Worth, I’d recommend a visit.
No, I’ve not yet gotten to see those. Putting them on my List!!! Thanks for the heads-up.
We are dry too, interesting how jaded a person gets with signs of rain, hm seen those before and no rain, again. Oh well sooner or later there will be rain and we’ll feel more right.
Yes, it’s surprising to me how complacent we are about water when we don’t live in actual desert. I wonder how the climate cycles we’re seeing will segue over the next decades, and what that might mean for all of the regions of the world that are long accustomed to particular kinds of climate….
Meanwhile, I’m just happy it’s not a day-to-day struggle to get enough water—or enough dry land—for survival where I do live! Lucky me. 🙂
love the analogy! and the rain photos are amazing 🙂
These are actually fountain photos, but to tell the truth that last one looks exactly like some shots I took of the rain coming off our eaves a year or so ago, so since I had the fountain shot handy, I took the analogy just that much further! 😉
xo
Love the rain photos!
As you can see in my reply to Tandy, I took some liberties in this instance with a “rain stunt double”—but one that accurately depicts the kind of Texas rain to which I was referring!! 😉 😀
xo
True! There is nothing as soul quenching as rain or any body of water really.
Said one coastal soul to another! 😉
xoxoxo
Beautiful reflection on thirst and lovely rain photos, too, Kathryn! California is in a drought right now. It hasn’t hit us hard, yet, in the bay area, but we’re trying to shorten showers, etc., just in case. It brings life into perspective when you think of other countries who don’t have clean water to drink or bathe in…again, not to take for granted on our part..♥
Exactly so; I was just conversing with other of our friends here about precisely that aspect. Gratitude for what is, vigilance about what is to come, and still always a little thirsty in the present day. Perhaps that’s a condensation (pun intended) of the human condition….
🙂
xoxo