Rain crashed against the window with the intensity of one making up for lost time. Flashes of lightning accompanied the shutter sound of thunder capturing the moments for posterity. The picture was surreal: darkness and rain, pierced by shafts of light and crashes of sound that rattled the ground.
He jerked awake. Whether it was the rain or thunder, he could not tell. As he listened to the twin elements enforce their, howbeit ephemeral, dominance over the earth, he was thankful. It was the first time in three and half years.
Now they could go and cultivate and countdown till harvest. He wondered what would be planted. The drought had messed up the cycle of seasons (upon which farming was predicated).
He smiled --- at human nature. Hours before all everyone wanted was for it to rain, with no thought for season. He hoped this was it. That he'd not have to appear at Shiloh empty-handed this year. He relished the prospect of offering firstfruit and one-tenth of his increase at the altar. It would be such a huge turnaround.
The coming days would decide all that. But for tonight, let the rain heal the land while the thunder took photographs of it.
*Image from kalingatv.com
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