Sometimes one does not know, or remember, how precious rain can be.
Last night my son came to the house for a dinner of pork loin cooked with lavender from the village market, followed by steaming pie made with June cherries from a tree that must have been growing in our garden for 40 years. We ate on the patio and finished a bottle of carbernet, talking and savoring the cool evening.
What made the evening especially delightful was the rain.
We’d seen it meandering around the Rio Grande Valley,