Rain

The joy of rain

What a dry summer. The ground here has been parched. The threat of fire extreme.

It’s been glorious is so many ways. Warm evenings, zero mosquitoes, endless blue sky, relaxing sea temperatures.

There have been days basking on the beach, ice creams, lazy picnics, late night swims, patio breakfasts and working with every door flung wide.

Sun lotion and hats came everywhere. Gallons of water was drunk. Shade was luxurious.

I have loved it.

But my garden …. oh, it has struggled. In June the lawn turned August yellow, dry and crispy underfoot. That was ok. I knew it would survive.

The river nearby sank lower and lower, a daily reminder of just how dry it was. Walking paths got dustier and dustier, grassy tracks retreated exposing sandy patches that got larger and larger.

Some plants, like the lavender and the fig, flourished whilst others wilted. The sun and the wind evaporating any hint of moisture from them.

The hose needed to be used judiciously as we emptied the water butts.

We mulched and shaded, stayed up late to give watering the best chance of seeping down to the searching roots.

How long would it last?

The blackberries ripened super early. The fig kept producing. Delicious.

But the trees started to gasp and stop feeding their leaves. Hedgerows browned and curled. Stress was visible and audible.

We started scanning forecasts for rain.

And last week it arrived.

What a joy, and what a surprise.

We remembered we had raincoats and umbrellas, wellies and shoes for a reason!  

Would it be enough?

Well, it sure was a glorious start. Everything breathed a sigh of relief. You could almost see the tension release.

And it’s rained plenty since. Light drizzly spots, stair rod sheets, splish splash round drops, sideways pins. Joyous variety. The sky has shifted from enormous marshmallow stacks edged in light to a blanket of constant grey. The strong westerly updating the image repeatedly. The sun has broken through, clothes have dried and puddles have disappeared.

Today the puddles have lingered, the sky’s not quite cleared and the week’s forecast promises more. The grass is greening - it happens so quick, and many plants have revived. The garden looks and feels fuller and softer again. It has relaxed.

But the stress was real and we probably won’t get to understand the full impact this season.

Aren’t we the same? Don’t we show incredible resilience to extremes? We are designed to survive and we do the most amazing job in unimaginable situations. But living and flourishing are different. Like plants, we prefer different climates and soils - but all of us flourish when they are consistent and predictable.

Our garden is flourishing now because we were able to provide water when the weather didn’t. Careful attention showed us where it was needed. We committed, time, energy and hope because we had planted this garden with love and care. It had been planted with the future in mind, and we wanted to keep that vision alive.

As we enter this new season, how are you? Are you parched or puddled? Stressed or relaxed? Are you rooted in the nurture and care of the preceding season or have you retreated early? What consistent care do you need?

Step outside, plant your feet in a puddle or on some soggy grass and take a moment. Are you standing in reviving rain, nourishing soil or gentle sun? What do you need today to nurture yourself to flourish tomorrow?