The Sound Of Rain

A farmer in an arride part of the world prepares to greet a much needed rain shower.

It came in from the south, gathering speed and might. Today had been a stinking hot day, the land was dusty, in agony and I could barely heal it's burning wounds. So when I caught sight of the gigantic mass of mingled dark purple and blue on the horizon, my heart lifted and hope was high. I rushed around the yard gathering all the pots, pans and buckets I could find, spread them around in disorderly manner and seated in prime fashion on a shabby, brocken down rocking chair, patiently waiting for the venue. Fresh gusts of wind messed up my hair and brought to life the wind chimes as all was ready and eagerly waiting for the promised deliverance.
The first drops fell heavy, the dusty soil greeting them with velvet thuds soon covered up by the tingling of them hitting the pots and pans. The rhythm was chaotic but built up gradually to a steady and healthy shower feeding the land of it's greedy needs. Every trickle and drip was amplified by my desperate need and welcomed with such a soothing sense of bliss that any other sound was obsolete to my soul.

Reviews

[Stan Lee]

Nice write Salvatore! Great use of descriptive imagery. I could really see this short scene in my minds eye. My favorite description was of the storm coming "gigantic mass of mingled dark purple and blue on the horizon". Beautiful. Just a spelling error in the last line. Believe it should be "any" other sound. :) Thanks for sharing your story. Stay inspired.

[Salvatoreparadise]

Thanks for the review Andronicus. I was actually hesitating with the purple description thinking it might be too abstract. Glad it came through ok.