A Conversation in the Clouds

I just had the most awesome experience. I took my dog outside for a little "business," and there was still a very light periodic rain falling. You know what I mean, the kind of rain that seems to fall only here and there like widely-spaced polka dots. It was a little chilly, my sweatshirt was almost enough but not quite, and the ground was damp from steadier rainfall overnight. About a dozen wild turkeys were in the hayfield, gobbling to one another and munching a late breakfast.

We paced back and forth up and down the lane, as we usually do, my dog taking note of the magical scents that seem to surface best after a rain. It takes him a while to figure out what he wants to do in the morning. I guess it's his equivalent of bathroom reading.

At one point, as he investigated what turned out to be the right spot, I heard a brief but determined little shower of raindrops in a tree just about fifteen feet away. At first I thought this heralded the onset of our becoming drenched, but the shower stopped as suddenly as it started and never came near us.

As we walked back to the house, I imagined the sky having a conversation with the rain clouds: "Oh, so you need to go out and rain? That's fine -- wait! Wait, there's Beggar and his dog...move a little to his left, will you? A little more...just a little...there! That's good. Now, watch his reaction after you drizzle: he's going to just love this."