A week ago Sonoma County, where I live, received its first substantial rainfall of the season. By the time the deluge had passed, nearly 8 inches of rain had fallen over a 24 hour period.

It rained last night. I mean it really rained. This was not the fleeting storm of a couple days ago but an actual sustained storm that lasted through the night. Rain was still falling when I woke up this morning with no sign of letting up any time soon.

After dinner last night I sat out on our deck. It was dark except for the small candle lantern that I had lit. Raindrops swished and rat-a-tatted onto the plastic roof that covers the deck. The speed and intensity of the raindrops ebbed and flowed, alternating  from a near downpour to barely a whisper, on and on while I sat there in silent gratitude. The plants and animals, rocks and grasses, creeks, rivers and lakes – all desiccated and desperate for rain, any rain – were drinking in this glorious autumn shower. I could feel their collective sighs along with my own. The intoxicating smells of wet earth perfumed the air. I filled my lungs again and again and just couldn’t get enough. 

When I looked out our bedroom window this morning, the grass was aglow with millions of water droplets, each one reflecting a tiny piece of the new day. The branches of our fruit trees were bowed with the weight of last night’s soaking. The red and green apples looked even more inviting than usual; having been washed clean they shone as if polished. Small puddles had formed on our deck, darkening the weathered redwood.

The past four Octobers have been a trying time as we’ve all been living under constant threat of wildfires. Evacuations, smoke, red flag warnings and power shut offs had become a depressing reality of life here in Sonoma County. Thankfully this is an altogether different year. Every raindrop that falls hastens the end of fire season.

All living things are drinking in this rain. Let it pour until the creeks and rivers are once again flowing, until the lakes and reservoirs are swollen, until the parched brown hillsides light up in their winter shades of green, until the air is once again filled with a symphony of croaking frogs, until rain is no longer a dream but a part of the Earth’s and our renewal. Let us all rejoice and give thanks for rain.