It rained yesterday evening. Seriously, no kidding, it rained. Clouds rolled in, lightning flashed, thunder rolled and water fell from the sky.
It was like a gift from heaven. No, it was a gift from heaven and I stood on the porch enjoying the sheer, cooling, clarifying beauty of the thing.
Perhaps you think that's some kind of exaggeration. So what, you mutter darkly from the bay window of a water soaked pub on Aberystwyth Pier, it rained, like we're supposed to care.
Not so fast. When the ground's cracking and every day's a triple digit furnace, rain means a lot. No fooling and you have to ask how people managed back before air conditioning. The answer is, they mostly didn't. Texan towns only got big after the advent of HVAC.
Still, those that pioneered the state were tough, no doubt about it. Right out there on the frontier in the relentless heat and the sleeping porch. Respect.
With all of this in mind I stood firm, like Ahab, as the rain crashed down and thanked the Almighty for His mercy.
Trust the plan,
LSP
