Rain. Over the weeks, I’ve been working fairly hard at attracting rain to our garden, if extreme longing works to bring on precipitation.
Apart from a little respite that opened up this arvo, we’ve been sheltering indoors, eating and drinking hot beverages. Sadly, I haven’t been able to show our visitors around the pretty spots of Mitchells Island. I’ve waited so long to show off our favourite places.
On the other hand, in that 15 minute window of abatement in the drizzle, I saw the garden looking so happy, and all of the neighbourhood sparkling in the wet. I’m sure our rain tank is full again, and what a blessing that is.
The poet William Henry Davies sums up the appreciation I feel at the moment:
I hear leaves drinking rain;
I hear rich leaves on top
Giving the poor beneath
Drop after drop;
‘Tis a sweet noise to hear
These green leaves drinking near.