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Summer is in full swing, temperatures soaring and scorching the earth…and I am in the mood for rain… Not the pouring torrents that stop everyone in their tracks and bring cities to a halt, but I long for the soft drizzles, the bright greens, the washed skies and brand new life.

There is this nice little poem I found online…


There Will Come Soft Rains – Sara Teasdale

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pool singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself when she woke at dawn Would scarcely know that we were gone.


Yes, no one would notice us gone… not a bird will sing us a dirge… the sun would still burn… and the earth would still spin… the stars would sparkle on and would still give the moon twinkling company.

I want to stop and watch… before it is too late.

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