Photography by B4wellness58

-Abridged Version-

Rain is a special event in open country.  But before the rain falls, the clouds of different shades of gray begin to communicate in dance. Layers gather together–some move one way while others seem to stand still. The dance is more beautiful when it can be seen at a distance.

The wind determines the momentum and direction of the movements. Any mystery about the direction in which the rain travels is nonexistent because clouds can be seen by the naked eye for miles and miles where no tall buildings or mountains or hills exist.

Then, when the dance is over, clouds stand still, and the greatest (and usually the darkest) clouds facing maturity with water, releases the rain in the wide open spaces of the country. The wind carries an indescribable fragrance ahead of it; a fresh scent pleasing to the nostrils.

When the country rain makes its first contact with grass, shrubbery, and trees, the scent of clean, wholesome, and uncontaminated greenery becomes a compelling bouquet that is gratifying to the sense of smell. One deep breath, maybe two, is intoxicating.

One day, Grandma Mary had done the laundry and hung the clothes out in the yard. About one-half hour later she noticed the cloud formation off in the distance and heard barely audible thunder. She went out to check the clothes to see whether they had dried. They had; and she quickly gathered them and brought them indoors. That’s one of the many benefits of country living. Freshly laundered clothes can get dry before the load is finished being hung out.

The chickens, pigs, dogs, and cats that were scattered about in the pasture began straggling in one by one. The cows usually didn’t make a change right away. I could see Grandpa Owen working his way toward the barn with Lady, the work-horse.

During heavy rains, it was the practice of the household to be quiet–especially when there was thunder and lightning. I don’t remember why, but it meant something to my grandparents. I believe they were praying.

The rainwater raged through the ditch that crossed the road and ran across the pasture, but the ditch didn’t overflow. When it stopped raining, Grandpa put on his fishing boots and surveyed the cotton crop, vegetable garden, and orchard. He made sure plants were still where they were supposed to be.

Grandpa brought back a fish (whose name I can’t recall) that was floundering in water that had collected in the ditch. We were happy to have fish with dinner for a change. After the assessment, he knew work couldn’t resume until the mud dried out enough for the horse to handle.

He waited patiently. It was two days before he could return to his work.

In those days, there was no modern farm equipment: it was the horse, plow, and the farmer. The farmers depended on God to send rain, to hold back the rain, and to dry the soil.“In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps”(Proverbs 16:9).

Seeing more clearly,











Author: wbfreelance

Retired Senior Citizen, African American, Christian, Bachelor's Degree in Theology, writer of non-fiction, can knit and crochet, work picture puzzles for display, and basic earring-making.

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