About time! Thank heavens! and Hallelujah! people say.
Rain means there’s hope that our well will fill back up, our taps will stop going dry, and I no longer have to clean my armpits with wipees. It means the rain might bring more rain, enough to saturate the cracked soil and raise the sagging crops. It means the farmers can breath again. And that the rivers flowing from the glaciers of the Himalayas, the rivers that have slowed down to a trickle this dry winter, will soon come alive again and spin the turbines that create the electricity that’s been in such short supply.
I’ve never felt so dependent on the weather. When it rained at home my track meet might be canceled or a picnic might move indoors. Here rain means power, food and water. It means life.