Adrenaline is rushing through my veins as
I lift and set the last bucket of blushing red hybrid tomatoes
into the bed of the truck, peering up at dark clouds,
feeling the rushing wind, moving faster and faster, on my skin
I turn – Val’s eyes and smile are wide – she felt a drop!
I dance as I make my way to the truck, whispering for more.
It comes, then, in waves of large drops –
from those smoldering black clouds, we cheer
as water splatters on the windshield, wipers fast to clear it away
and I open the window to let the rain hit my face
wanting to jump out right then to dance barefoot
in the rain, but knowing full well that these tomatoes need
to get to the safety of the shed, I squash that longing inside of me.
But once the tomatoes are safe, and Daddy lets us all go
The rain is still calling for me, pouring hard on the shed roof so
I run gleefully up to the house, take off my shoes and I’m
free – to do turns on the wet cement, lifting my face
to drink some drops, rain pouring into my eyes and I
let my hair down, shaking it as water drenches my curls and
I lay down to listen to the showering of drops as they
soak me through and through.
Later, Kazami, taking a larger-than-necessary tomato sandwich
in his hands to eat, shouts in wonder and points outside the window
and then I see it, too – a perfect, glorious rainbow behind the trees
a lighter rainbow right behind it, glowing brightly in the fading light as
the rain slows to a steady, lazy beat and I’m smiling to the sky –
my hair dripping with water and my heart dripping with gratitude.
DISCLAIMER FROM DADDY:
Though the rain was nice, it only amounted to about 15/100 of an inch, which is not enough to satisfy out thirsty field. So tonight, like many nights before in these dry, summer weeks, Kazami and I will be moving drip tapes in the dark, with our headlights lighting the way… Sigh…all we can do is hope for rain that will make a difference.
Aozora Brockman 