Sarah is hosting Poets' Pub this week
and our topic of choice is rain. I lapsed
into prose!
Submitted to dVerse
June 2, 2020
******************
The song says "Rainy days and Mondays always get me down”, but not me! As early as I can remember, I’ve loved rain. In our part of the Illinois prairie, you could see the spring rain clouds building from miles away over the vast flatness, their skirts billowed out like great clucking mother hens. By the time they reached the far edge of the corn field beside the house, you could see the leading edge of the curtain of rain. The distant patter on the corn leaves crescendoed to a wonderful rat-a-tat as the first big splats set off spurts of dust in the barnyard. Ah, the wonderful earthy, fresh, pungent smell of rain! Summer storms were wonderful too. Sometimes the distant sky turned almost black, the clouds rolling and tumbling, shaking themselves free of lightning bolts that arced to earth over the dark green fields, the distant rumbling thunder building to bone-jarring cracks that accompanied spectacular electrical displays as the storm moved overhead. Majestic. Magnificent. I don’t remember fear, only awe, and somehow reassurance that I was part of a greater scheme of things. While I’ve lived my adult life in cities, rainy days always take me back to those prairie rains.
The prairie thunderstorms in Indiana used to frighten me as a child, but the rain was needed.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful prose passage, Beverly. You make rain feel like a welcomed traveler, seen long before they arrive.
ReplyDeleteI am with you. I love the rain especially on the tin barn roof in midsummer! Such a refreshing experience is a cool summer rain!
ReplyDeleteI love this - great detailing, you really took me there. I like to see rain coming in from a distance - when we're at the coast, we see it coming in over the sea - our weather mainly comes from the west. Great walls of rain, moving in. Your storms sound amazing, and I guess you get great vistas then, too.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed your anecdotal prose poem, Bev! I love rain. You paint a wonderful picture of rain on the prairie, with the ‘spring rain clouds building from miles away over the vast flatness, their skirts billowed out like great clucking mother hens’ and the ‘leading edge of the curtain of rain’. I love the way you incorporate all the senses, especially the ‘earthy, fresh, pungent smell of rain’. I’m a storm fan too and have experienced summer storms like the ones you describe, as Norfolk is flat with huge skies.
ReplyDeletesuch a wonderful description - I would pine for the prairies having read this
ReplyDeleteI grew up on the Illinois prairie too ... every word of your magnificent prose resonates, deeply. To this day rain makes me feel good. Central Oregon where I live is 'high desert' and not a lot of rain, I celebrate when it happens. No rain dances though I have threatened. Cheers.
ReplyDeleteI remember childhood rains with affection and wonder as well. We were too young to have our plans spoiled...
ReplyDeleteNice description.
ReplyDeleteNice,though I've never been able to handle rain the least bit well.
ReplyDeleteAs someone who grew up in the rocky dells of the eastern seaboard, upon moving to Illinois the "rain curtain" was an absolute revelation to me-- it had never occurred to me that you could see that wall of rain. The first time I saw it I couldn't figure out what it was.
ReplyDeleteI like to listen to gentle rain, but storms, not so much. We've had downed trees, and now I'm scared of storms. 😀 Though I do think the sky looks magnificent with stormy clouds rolling in.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely a prose poem. I used to live in northern Arizona where the monsoons would bring lightening so close, you could taste metal in your mouth when it cracked nearby.
ReplyDeleteProse, but very poetic prose. I'm always fascinated and a bit terrified by the idea of prairies. Hard to imagine when you're used to rather cosy landscapes of hills and valleys and patches of woodland.
ReplyDeleteWhen you live in in woods the rain always comes as a surprise... I love how you can see it coming (and maybe seeking shelter in time) such rain sounds excellent... (and especially when the soil is thirsty)
ReplyDelete