The Beautiful Sound of Rain

 

Raindrops on the smoketree...

Yesterday we received a Red Flag warning - this is the most severe warning when weather conditions are such that a wildfire can easily start. In this case, the most concern was the expected dry lightning  (that ignited the massive LNU lightning fire last year) that combined with gusty winds and our bone dry conditions could wreak havoc. Once again we were packing our bags and put the grab-and-go boxes close to the garage. By now we are so well organized that we just grab our stuff and put it in place where we can easily carry it to our car.

... on the French lilac...

The thunder and lightning started late in the evening and we watched it with worry. We were watching a German crime series when the Geek suddenly asked "is that rain I'm hearing?"

It was.

Beautiful, calming rain. 

And then it stopped.

... on the African Daisy...

Even though it rained only a few minutes, hardly to get the ground wet, it filled us with hope. Hope that this time we will be spared from evacuating, that the thunderstorm will pass by without causing any damage. Our hope was unreasonable because that tiny amount of rain would not be able to stop any sparks, but hope is a weird thing.

... on the Petchoa...

Eventually we went to bed, while outside there was still some lightning, but not so much thunder.

A couple hours later it was raining harder.

Oh that beautiful sound of rain!

... on the Calibrachoa...

This stronger shower didn't last for long either, but it sure did more than just wetting the ground a bit.

This morning, when I went out into the garden under still gray skies I saw the remains of the nightly rain everywhere.

The abalone shells that I scattered throughout the garden had changed their color to pretty shades of pink. It always happens when they get wet.

The lone pomegranate on my tree was shining with droplets - I planted this tree only last year (one day before the lockdown) and I'm grateful that it already bears fruit, even if it is only one.

Look at the clematis - this one had me worried throughout the summer. It was blooming so prettily in late spring, but then the leaves started to turn brown and the plant didn't look well at all. Just a few days ago I cut it back drastically - and this is the result. I'm not complaining.

I am deeply grateful for the rain that has turned the severity of this Red Flag warning around. While this was only a drop in the ocean and will change absolutely nothing of our severe drought and the danger of wildfires, it brought relief in an anxiety filled night. That was all we needed for that moment.