We could smell it. taste it. see it in the sky. our appetite for rain had been sharpened over the weeks of clouds building up, but nothing giving. in southern maryland, this is par for the course, but when you have a new acre of vidal giving it all that little vines can give—you just want to help them along a little. the vines didn't need much. some poor soil. check. some weeding. check. some rain. sigh.
gerald and his dad put in a good day's work on saturday. they thinned the shoots in the proofing acre and then gerald improved upon his handy work in the newly designed wash-up station. the boys stayed back in charlotte hall with their momma, as the freelance race was on. that evening, the talk was of rain, rain, rain.
with a sense of giddiness, i awoke this morning to the sound of a pleasant drizzle. what a good rain! misty and consistently putting moisture gently onto the ground. after weeks without rain, i had wished mightily for it but—if it could be delivered lightly, that would be great. no dirt-eroding deluge, please—and here, a wish granted. i can't tell you how pleasant it was: the fresh smell, the dampness, the light pattering sounds. we gathered our stuff, made a list of goods to replenish at charlotte hall (we owe you laundry and dishwater detergent, coffee and granola balls, lyrel), discussed upcoming and previous birthday plans, cleaned and packed for our journey back. it was another good weekend and a happy one, too.