The farmers were desperate for rain. They were in danger of losing their crops without it. The driest May since sometime in the 1940s.
Yesterday was another hot one. We splashed in the pool and drank lemonade all afternoon, unaffected by the drought. We made plans for the next day to swim, maybe invite some friends to join us. We counted on sunshine.
Then came the rain. The plants, the gardens and grass are all so happy. You know what? So am I. A grey wet day became an invitation to attend to domestic matters, help the cogs in this domestic machine run a little more smooth. Time to tidy, make snacks for the week ahead. To sit and read by an open window, listening to the orchestral winds and rainfall.
And so, on the seventh day, we all rested. Sat back and let ourselves be nourished, restored.