There is hope in the dry season
As I'm typing this, I can hear the pounding of the first storm of the rainy season and the rain as it thunders on the tin roof of our building.
And even as I sit here, I feel refreshed.
Rain has always had a magical influence on me, symbolizing something powerful and majestic. I loved the rainy season growing up in Arizona. August is burning hot, no relief from the temperature and humidity…. Until you see that wall of gray in the distance. That rolling clap of thunder, that sweet scent that hangs temptingly in the air and the hope that comes with...