Rain in Texas

The clouds came rolling out of the west -- dark, black-blue clouds. A wind came before them, blowing the warm air away. The temperature dropped.

When the rain came, it came down hard. The gutters in the street filled with bubbling water running down the block. A stream coming off the roof and down the driveway ran along the stone path in the front of the house.

Look at the water, I said. I was thinking of how the compost piles were a little too dry. I was thinking of the rain barrels.

I sat down on the floor by the patio door, and Trudy sat with me. We watched the rain come down in sheets. And we imagined the Desert Willow taking a long drink. And the just-mowed grass. And the daisies in the front yard.

Look! It's hailing! I said as smaller than pea-sized hail bounced on the back patio.

The wind picked up. The rain fell harder. Trudy and I sat in amaze as we stared out the window.

Well now I know I'm in Texas, my mother said.

How?

You know you're in Texas when it rains and people sit down mesmerized to watch it.

She's right, I suppose. We were mesmerized. But I think I know plenty of people in Houston who would not have been. And they're Texans, too. Aren't they?

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