It was raining when I woke up today. The deck was littered w/ scarlet & yellow leaves, vivid against the wet wood. In the sky, clouds hung low & heavy. Not a good day for the final moving in of outside plants to winter inside.

But when I sighed, I remembered what my sister-in-law said on her recent visit: I haven’t seen rain in two years. She was in visiting from LA, where the drought has hit very hard. For her, rain is no inconvenience, but a sadly missed necessity.

So today, after that initial sigh, I stopped to inhale that incredible fragrance of wet earth. Petrichor is the word for it, in case you wondered: a combination of the various oils of plants, and bacteria and other life in soil.

It acts for me like an energy drink, at the same time that I’m deeply comforted by it. Almost a kid again, in that fragile threshold space between action & stillness. It still does that for me.

But today was action, after the inhalation and nod of recognition for all the rain brings. Rain — that giver of life. Destroyer of it, too, of course, although I  only just remembered. Even in Tornado Alley (my place of birth!) we fear the wind more than the rain. While in California, farmers are desperate for the damp earth rain leaves in its wake.

Moving the two small plant tables inside, and the various heavy planters still left on the deck, I didn’t have to work nearly as hard to enjoy the rain droplets as I did lugging the damp earth-filled pots. Which is fine. It seems little enough to be able to remember, once again, that every day of my life has some amazing piece to it. And usually far more than one.

May there be life-giving rain in your life this week!