The dogs have an almost identical rainy day routine. When, at their request, I open the door, they look out, sniff the air, shake their head twice, take one step back, then rush outside. They come back quicker than usual, anxious to be inside again. Their coats are damp when I run my hands along their back to tell them, “Good Girl.” Not so wet, today, that they spray me with droplets when they shake off the moisture. Not so wet that I have to get the towel to rub them down.
This is a mild rain, soft and steady.
It’s helping, though, to alleviate the dryness and dust. The air smells clear and all the colors are brightened. Buds seem to have magically appeared on the grapevines, that looked like dead twigs just a couple days ago. The grass is growing so fast, you can hardly tell what areas of the yard I mowed. Suddenly, with a little rain, we have moved from Early Spring (when the snow is gone and “thank God for that!” and “it’s not one of those big-mud seasons, that’s good”, but nothing s really happening and “what will the summer bring?”) to Spring, fully arrived, in all of it’s lushness and glory.
There’s nothing quite as nice as a gentle rain!