When I got in my car this morning, I wore two wool sweaters, plus a raincoat. It was only drizzling so I wondered if I were a bit overdressed. But as I drove up the freeway to pick up a friend for church, suddenly it was drenching rain. Cats and Dogs. Buckets. I explained our American descriptors for a lot of rain to my African friend, but those phrases were inadequate to describe the feelings I had about the great blessing of water during those twenty minutes of downpour.
When was the last time I was out in that much rain? Could it be real? Yes, it was real — real water that is our daily miracle and sustenance, whether we live in the desert or by a constant river. There were puddles to show that when I was in bed last night, and even yesterday when I sat far from the window, at fireside, it had rained a good amount. I am so thankful.
A COLD RAIN STARTING
A cold rain starting
And no hat—
-Matsuo Basho, (1644-1694) Japan