Today there was rain. In the desert.
And there were peanut buttered jelly sandwiches. And boiled eggs. And itty bitty cartons of orange juice with itty bitty orange straws.
There were homemade Valentines. Toes warmed by the fire. Hiccups.
A blue balloon. Jumping jacks. Homemade bread cooling on a wire rack.
Cinnamon tea. Clean sheets. And–oh yeah–a speeding ticket.
All the while, the pitter patter. The gentle song of it–the soundtrack of one February day.
Like a pulse it hums along: a soft and welcome patter.
I listen as it falls. I watch the drip. I breathe in its crisp folds.
I snuggle him. Brush her teeth. Give welcome home hugs and goodnight kisses.
Tomorrow the sun will peek through. The desert will dry out.
But today there was rain. In the desert.
And in our own way, we danced right along.





