A Record Not Broken, and Souls Refreshed

My morning paper tells me the sweet smell of rain is called petrichor. When rain falls on the earth, it causes a chemical reaction, mixing with the oils from plants and trees.

It causes that wonderful smell that makes us say, "Ahhh! It smells like rain."

It didn't rain yesterday, just the veriest sprinkle, but we had clouds and thunder--and that wonderful smell. Best of all, the temperature dropped in the approaching gusts of wind from 97 to 77 or lower.

At 1 in the afternoon, my granddaughters were running around and shrieking in the first midday fun outdoors they have enjoyed without a pool attached in months.

"Grandma," my oldest shouted at me in glee, "We're geeks!"

Some areas did get rain. Most did not. We got enough to say we got sprinkles on our faces.

The record is broken. At day 40 in consecutive triple-digit days, we didn't reach 100.Did. Not.

Today? Oh, probably another triple-digit. And on through the next week.

In the paper, the reporter wrote that business workers and shoppers congregated on the sidewalks to enjoy the cool break and see if it would rain. The break was too important. So my grandchildren and I weren't the only geeks.

We were humans enjoying pure physical relief this world can give us. Only a couple of hours of it, but we are refreshed.

The rain will come. It will come. We smelled it.

The rain will come.