It rained last night. I think I know before I even wake up, or maybe I’ve just dreamed it. For the last few weeks, I’ve dreamed of it nightly, only to wake time and again to the bitter disappointment of yet another dry day.
Papa worries about the rain, and so must I as well. He paces back and forth across the field in some kind of attempt to summon the rain gods, and I follow closely behind him, trying to match each step with my much smaller stride. I see the worry in his eyes below the brim of his straw hat, as he stares from the sky to the ground and back again.
We measure time and success by the whim of the rain, and now as I struggle to come awake, I believe I can nearly smell the scent of rain, and the hope that comes alive in me so suddenly is overwhelming and bittersweet.
As I crawl out of bed, I rub the sleep from my eyes and swear that I can smell rain. I run to the window, push back the thin curtain, and see the ground still wet from the overnight showers. The shout I give wakes the entire house, and before long, we’re all out on the front porch, marveling at the puddles in the yard and the beauty of our red wheelbarrow glazed with rain water.
The gift of the rain will save our crops for another few days, maybe even a week. Soon enough, we’ll be hoping for it again, praying and worrying because so much depends upon this, this rain of life.
But for now, we celebrate.
Join us at The Lightning and the Lightning Bug for writing prompts and fellowship!
For this week's prompt, I'd like you to be inspired by the poem below by William Carlos Williams. "The Red Wheelbarrow" has long been a poem that holds an air of mystery and intrigue for me. For it to be so few words, I feel it tells a complex tale with a lot hidden just below the surface. Take any word, image, or feeling evoked from "The Red Wheelbarrow" and turn it into your masterpiece. Oh, and like Williams, let's do things short and sweet. Write your piece in 300 or fewer words.
so much depends
a red wheel
glazed with rain
beside the white