It rains in the desert....

Today was damp, this is unusual because dampness is not a daily thing here in the desert.
But today was cool and damp... it rained from the sky down, because I saw dirt marks on my car.

Yes, you heard right dirt marks.

When it rains here the water almost never hits the ground. You can see it raining in the distance the black streaks being brushed downward from even darker clouds.

It may hit your car and then the dirt sticks to it, but that is the limit.

Once in a while we'll get a really good shower and a good soaking but this happens perhaps three times a year.

I used to live in the northeast where rain was a daily, or at least weekly, occurrence.

I love the rain now.

I didn't, when it happened all the time... back in Pennsylvania .

But I do have some memories of rain, that makes it absolutely delightful.

When I was, lets say 10, we had a cabin in the Poconos my family would live there all summer Dad would commute back and forth to work and my sister an I would just play, swim, hike and just be free from the constrains of city living.
We would get dressed in our swimsuits eat our breakfast and not return home till about 5 or 6 o'clock in the evening, or when my mom would ring the dinner bell.
Being Pennsylvania, it would rain, somedays just enough to get most people out of the lake and into their cars.
Not me and my sister and my friend Betty, we would hang towels around the life guard stand and huddle in.
Then we would make a break for it and run into the warm lake.
The lake wasn't warm it was about 75 degrees but in comparison to the 70 degree coolness of the rain it seemed like a sauna to us.
Our hair would be standing straight up due to static electricity and near by lightning strikes, but this didn't deter us at all.

The bell would ring and we'd have to go home... but only after a nice warm swim in the rain.
I can still see the droplets of rain hitting the water as we swam in and out of the depths of the lake.

This was a great day.

Childhood memories are always better, when relived through the eyes of someone else, we can relate to the smells, sounds and feelings, our own interpretation, in our minds then making it ours.
The walk home from school was always an adventure when it rained, the oak trees leaves knocked to the ground. The rain tapping on my umbrella making that familiar sound.

Most of all I can still see the puddles in Martin's Lane

big deep oil slick covered puddles, dotting the road like musical notes on a scale.

The smell of the earthworms filling the air with that glorious scent.
My socks and shoes soaking wet from the miss judged jumping attempt to clear the puddle.

Upon the drenching of my feet, all cares are thrown to the wind and the commencing of stomping in the puddles began.

This also was a great day.

When it rains in the desert all brown goes green as if by a magic wand waving over the land... and then back to the browns and tans I've learned to love.

The earth is quenched by a drink from heaven.... and so is my soul...

May your soul be quenched by the love we all need and cherish.

Peace and love,
Janice