It got suddenly quiet in the office a few weeks ago. You would have thought a distinguished visitor had just walked through our front doors. Someone reverently said “do you hear that?”. After a few moments, we all exchanged smiles and got back to work, fingers on keyboards keeping time with raindrops. We had an inkling it was coming, of course, because Scott (youngest brother/farming division) keeps a close eye on the happenings in the sky, but with the dry spell we have been experiencing here in California, the rain is definitely a special guest. It is respected and celebrated and welcomed back any time. Through our big office windows, we have all had front row seats; watching the transformation of the hills surrounding us. It’s kind of like rain is one of Nature’s photoshop tools…adding touches of green here and there and enhancing the colors.
If you are not a poetry type of person, you can stop reading now. The following is one of my favorites and I think of it every single time the world gets a bath.
I saw God wash the world last night
with His sweet showers on high,
and then, when morning came, I saw
Him hang it out to dry.
He washed each tiny blade of grass
and every trembling tree;
He flung His showers against the hill,
and swept the billowing seas.
The white rose is a cleaner white,
the red rose is more red,
since God washed every fragrant face
and put them all to bed.
There’s not a bird, there’s not a bee
that wings along the way
but is a cleaner bird or bee
than it was yesterday.
I saw God wash the world last night;
Ah, would He had washed me
As clean of all my dust and dirt
As that old white birch tree!
Just one of our views!