The lightning must have woke me up. It was pitch black, early, early morning. I turned an ear to the window and heard the steady fall of a good rain. I checked the radar on my phone to confirm it - a solid zone of green and yellow, and fell back to a peaceful sleep.
Before I married a farmer I didn’t pay much attention to rain, other than when it interrupted my plans.
Over a decade into this union, my ear is fairly well trained at identifying rains. There’s storms that blow in loud and obnoxious but don’t actually deliver much in the way of water. There’s rains that come drizzling in that barely get the ground wet. There’s rain that comes so hard and fast most of it will rush off into the ditches without ever seeing the roots of our crops.
Then there’s good rains. They are long and steady and completely ground penetrating. You can almost always hear the difference in just a second of listening.
For us, this rain was critical. This was the difference in getting to play or being put on the bench.
There’s few things that bring an engulfing peace like a good rain when it’s badly needed.
Kate Lambert grew up in northern Illinois, not on a farm but active in FFA and showing livestock.
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