After an entire month of no rain (the driest January on record), a juicy weather system has finally settled over most of Northern California, including the bit of the state known as Frogpond Acres. Saints be praised.
Yesterday afternoon when I got home from school I changed and dashed out the door to get as much walking in before the storm began. The sky grew darker and darker and the winds gusted through the trees as Murphy and I marched around the pond. The first drops plooshed down as I was dragging wind-fallen cottonwood branches up to the burn pile. I love the wet, but it seemed like a good time to go inside.
To people who regularly get rain it must seem mighty strange, this amazement and exultation of mine at the phenomenon of water falling from the sky.