It sounds like rain. It looks like rain, Betty said. It smells like rain, I said. The rain isn't supposed to come until mid-June. But by mid-May, everyone is praying for it.
Water levels are low in the wells.
We're tired of brown and ready for green mountains. That night, it rained just enough to make mud on our cars and patios, just enough to tease us. The wind howled. Doors and windows slammed and rattled. I ran around the house stuffing towels under doors and securing windows.