Good Rain

This morning’s rain, the big stuff, the blow-the-roof-off, turn-semi’s-over, strip-every-green-and-flowering-thing kind of rain is now in West Virginia and we just had a soft, leftover shower, the kind that doesn’t even show up on radar and the birds sing through. A good rain.

No major damage right here, so I am particularly thankful and appreciative of today’s rain since little grass seedlings are happening in some repaired parts of our yard. It started with being told two months ago “well, it is a little late in the spring for starting grass seed. Fall would be better” but last September I was told “well, it’s a little late to get grass going before winter sets in” so I said let’s do it now. “Well, you’ll have to do lots of watering”, but not if good rain comes in nicely spaced intervals. In the mornings, a drencher, a pause, and then a soft, fifteen minute, sprinkler kind of rain. Just like today’s.  The hose is still curled up, resting, and the sun is out in a sky that is twenty degrees cooler than yesterday. Perfect.

So, with this respite, I took an iced tea to the porch and a new book, Tell About Night Flowers – Eudora Welty’s Gardening Letters 1940-1949 and read for a bit. In a thank you letter to her friend, Diarmund Russell, on December 12, 1941, Ms. Eudora wrote:

“It was a rainy day that anyone might have got a present, it was like a spell, silver to look at, rain in every breath — when you took a walk it was quiet and still, the tree trunks seemed luminous, and violets were cool and filled with the weight of their heads when you picked them — Today the drops are falling softly, the birds singing clearly, and even in my room upstairs I can hear the thrashers walking around under their roof of the magnolia-fuscata branches thinking the world is green and filling with small brown funny birds all over — (p. 43).

Good rain.

Cindy Briggs


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