The Coming of the Rain to Eden.

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I hear the sporadic tattoo of a snare drum in these Ozarks woods.

The sound is very soft at first, no more than a trickle behind a vagrant melody just out of earshot.

It’s a very sweet sound, just a trickle of a sound.

But, it’s coming, that needed and wished for rain.

It started in a dark, bulging elephantine cloud that drifted over the hardwoods up on the hill.  It has not yet reached the small pond that thirsts for it.

Jory Sherman
Jory Sherman

I lean against a sheltering oak, waiting for the curtain of rain to reach me.  I hear it patter against the leaves as the rain marches toward me from the woods above me.  The pond is dead still as I gaze down at it.

The clouds have daubed the water with a satiny black and slate-gray splotches and streaks.

Then, overhead, I hear the first pitter of rain. There is no pitter-patter yet.  The vanguard is slow and sparse with its moisture.

Finally, the phalanx of rain marches over and past me, down to the pond. The pond teems with crystalline dancers. They churn the colors into platinum in some strange alchemy. It seems to pick up speed and intensity, but there is no wind.  Just the steady drumming of rain all around me.

The theoretical physicists who deal with quantum mechanics say that nothing exists in the universe until it is observed.

So, this rain exists and I exult in it.  It lends a freshness to the air, and draws a pleasant aroma from the earth.  I may not be able to see a Higgs Bozon, but this is not only existence, it is the very essence of life on this planet.

Water is the particle that sets this earth in motion, makes it teem with life.

EDEN TREE COVERThe rain comes from a heaven we cannot see, but can only imagine.

For the clouds have hidden the blue ocean of our sky.  In their folds they harbor the genesis and the secret of life. As they drift across the curve of the land they empty their pockets and allow their treasure to fall and replenish the soil and the vegetation.

There is no reason to delve into quantum physics.  This is real, this rain, this gift from above.

This is existence, the very essence of all that is, or will be.

This is how Eden flourishes and works its wonders, its magic.

This is how my paradise, my personal Eden, grows.

 

Please click the book cover image to read more about Jory Sherman and his books.

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  • Caleb Pirtle

    Perhaps the most fragrant and unforgettable aroma of all is the smell of rain coming across pastures in the midst of a hot summer afternoon. It’s a shame that no one ever invented perfume that smelled so good.

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