I relocated to the Pacific Northwest after a few years in Taos, NM. When rains came to Taos, a noticeable elation would elevate - flora, fauna, and mountain alike would smile - foreheads, leaves, and rockfacessparkling. The landscape after a rain would come alive with green poking from under layers of dust and knotted dried vegitation. The jackrabbits would hop with more spring in their steps. The desert sage would release an audible sigh of joy as the rain-induced growth spurt glowed light green to the horizon.

Someday, maybe (when I grow webbed feet) I'll tire of rain. But not yet. Still, when it rains, I see life falling from the sky and I have hope that everything will live another day. The river will keep flowing, the trees will get a few inches taller and fatter, the soil will thicken, and fish will swim upstream to spawn.