Yesterday afternoon, after months of drought, rain came down sporadically in drops, then sheets of rain.
The first raindrops bounced on the aluminum roof of the barn and stables. Lightning flashed, thunder clapped, and Star the paint gelding and I flinched. He bolted for about three gallops, then returned quickly to the shelter of the stable. Within thirty minutes, five-tenths of an inch had fallen and a lightning strike on the oil piping fence about fifty-yards away knocked out electrical power.
I fed Star his grain and Horseshoer’s Secret — a potion for rebuilding hoof walls — and he munched haply through the noise of the thunderstorm, occasionally bringing his head out of the feed bin to see if I still sat in the alleyway waiting out the rain. I talked to him, Good boy, fine fellow.
Broke Tree Corral is the first of two successive corrals about the barn and arena. So named for an American Elm tree that broke in two, the tree has continued to thrive with bark and one-half of its internal veins intact for at least eight years now. The grass in the corrals has become brittle and sparse. The rain quickly formed small channels that flowed into the second corral, the Well House Corral, where bare ground could not stop the erosion-flow into the near fields of buffalo grass and mesquite sprouts.
Rain has fallen, the temperature has dropped and the Jack Rabbit has come out of his burrow to chomp on fresh sprouts and new, tender, blades of grass in the small dell between me and the Dooley place. The drought has not been broken decisively, but this rainfall is a far away sound of better days and nights headed to Texas, a hunter’s footfall tracking a devil of fiery brutalities to slay and scatter to cool winds and shady juniper groves for those that live with the land.
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Notes, corrections and additions:
Try as I might, misspelled words sometimes slip through. I do not rely on “check spelling” frequently, but will look again at a word if it is underlined in red. In this post this morning, I misspelled, “lightning,” twice! I spelled it “lightening” and missed the correction. In writing posts, I do not have a proofreader. It is an imperfect world filled with imperfect compositions.
Such good news Jack. Hopefully it is a harbinger of the change you have been looking for. Enjoy your walk through the mud this morning. Rejoice in it’s presence.
Annie: It is good news. Yes, I’ll walk through the mud today…had not thought about that until you mentioned it.
How wonderful! It must feel soooo good. What a great sound and feeling it must have been to wait out the storm under the aluminum roof with Star. That is one very good place to be.
Teresa: I know you get plenty of rain up there. It is a great sound. I sat out at 4:30 a.m. this morning on the porch listening to it.
Hurrah! Glad to hear you finally got some precipitation.
Yes, Rebecca, finally! This morning, I received 2.7 inches.
Those are very welcome photos, Jack! I’m so glad you finally got some rain! Sure hope it means the end of the drought has begun! The countryside will rejoice!
Thanks, Montucky. I hope it is the beginning of the end. And, there is rejoicing going on amongst the deer. They played in the grove yesterday after the rain!
It’s a beautiful day, this day with rain. The brown grass is already turning green. Oh, but the cost of hay. Oh my goodness. My neighbor’s pasture caught fire in Woodbine and it got quite a bit of his round bales. Fortunately his north pasture was not burnt and he has some hay there left. It’s hard times.
Anita: Yes, really hard times! I’ve been afraid of fires up here too. Fortunately, I’ve been spared. I’m glad your neighbor still has that north pasture. I have a pasture beside SH 108 that I constantly worry about.
Previous comment from Anonymous is mine.
Anita
Got it, Anita. No problem. Thanks for commenting. I enjoy your photos of back roads.
Please send some of that wet stuff down here Jack. The Hill Country is so dry right now we may not have any colors this fall.
I am doing my best up here with as much medicine bag power as I have — not much, I’m afraid — to push the clouds your way.
What a wonderful thing the internet is – last night I spotted your rain on radar and today I get to see photos of it!
Last week a friend between Kerrville and Medina got a quarter inch. Another friend outside Hunt got a tenth two days ago. Our turn was today, with a half-inch. The change hasn’t come, but it’s coming. Patience, patience.
And how I smiled. I have to go back and correct “lightning” over and over again in my own writing. Personally, I suspect “lightening” is the proper spelling, and the experts just haven’t figured it out. 😉
Yes, the internet is wonderful thing! Especially blogging with friends on nature, weather, memories and wildlife. So glad you got half-inch. They really need it between Kerrville and Medina as they have been in drought for some time now. The spelling of lightning really got me yesterday. I don’t have my unabridged dictionary with me, but I am going to look up the spelling. Nonetheless, I corrected it. Good to hear you have the problem too. I am not alone with that “word.”
I sure do know how a drought feels. Glad y’all got some rain!
Thank you, Jean. I hope you are having some rain to brighten the browns to green. I like your gravatar, holding the bird book in your garden. Very classy indeed.
Thanks for the complement and comment on my blog. You also have a very cool nature blog!:)
Thanks, Jean. I hope your weather is better than mine over here. I am still in the 100+ degrees!
That’s some rain, Jack! And that bolt would’ve made me jump like the jack rabbit that’s nibbling on the goodies – amazing how nature rebounds. I just hope there’s not too much erosion. A hard rain on a hard earth can lead to trouble.
Thanks for your well wishes – I’m recovering from the strep throat…each day is a bit better. Will drop you an e-mail as I want to share what the Europeans and others are saying about the U.S.’s current state. We were in Austria, Hungary, and Italy and met some interesting people.
Do drop me an email when you have time. I just hate those sore throats. Yet, they come. Hungary? I’d like to hear about that.
How wonderful to finally hear the rain on the roof, Jack. Such a good sound. Star was glad that you stayed by him, I’m sure. It’s a frightening weather for a horse (and for many other animals).
The air after rain is difficult to explain, isn’t it? It’s different in a garden or in a city street or out in the field. In the garden with lilacs it’s one of the most lovely scents I know, in the city street it’s just a feeling that everything has now been fresh and clean-washed – but out in a field you can smell the herbs and the grass and the corn – and everything. It’s inexplicably.
And the rain came……..
Grethe ´)
Oh, yes, Star was really glad I was with him. The air after rain is luscious, almost musky, fertile. And, in the streets, it’s a new start, a new shining beginning. The herbs just explode with scent. Wild herbs like lemon thyme are prevalent here. Yes, and the rain came, and….
A change of pace that was absolutely necessary! It will be amazing to see how life tries to flourish now. Especially if the temperatures stay down and you get some more rain.
An important event given the difficult circumstances.
Bill, I noticed this morning (August 19) that the grass is not as brown and green shoots are coming up! Fancy that in August. After a week, we are supposed to get more rain.
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