Rain in the Dry Season

Today it rained. The clouds had been growing steadily all morning, threatening to unleash. At first, I wrote it off because it is the dry season, and every other time that it looked like it was going to rain, the clouds blew over. The wind was rustling through the fields of sun-bleached maize, and the familiar earthy smell spread through the air. At noon the skies opened up, as much as they ever do in the dry season here. 

It was almost pitiful, the amount of rain that actually fell compared to the spectacle that the winds were creating. There was barely enough water to darken the entire surface of orange dirt in the yard, and the clothes on the line were no wetter after the rain than they had been before.

For the rest of the day, the winds continued and thunder rumbled in the distance, but there was only one actual shower, and it was just as light as the first. It amazes me that the people in this region even bother to try and raise crops, with two such harsh dry seasons every year, but I guess most don’t have any other options.


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