Thunder crackles and the rain's patters grow louder. Breeze floats in through the open windows. The rain is a blessing, giving the land a reason to be green and full after the summer's heat left the grasses dry and parched.
For one of the first times, I embrace and welcome and encourage the rain. Fall, fall, fall. For hours! Downpour! Thunder!
The sad circles of yellowed grass must be thirsting for the impending shower, a great downpour, filled with the very ingredient of life.
In the middle of the night, when the thunder booms and bellows, I sit upright like the bolt of lightning from the window outside. The thunder seems to pound its tough, cloudy fist upon the very earth - a guesture that maddens and grabs attention.
"Wake up, pay attention!" the dark clouds seem to say. There is something important that we have not yet awoken to. Something greater, something waiting. Something in the shadows that remains hidden from view.
But I nod back off to sleep, drifting into ignorant slumber, until the night cracks and booms and bellows once again.