It was still raining steadily this morning - I mean, this afternoon - when I woke up from a long sleep that began at 4am with the sound of water falling softly on the trees outside my window. It's 4pm now and raining still. It's a little cold, but it's not freezing; I can't see the sun, but it's not too dark. There is an unusual calm about today, this rare tranquility. It's something about the rain that seems healing...the sound is somehow comforting, peaceful. It's as if our parched earth is feeling immensely grateful as its cry for water is being answered generously, yet not in an overwhelming flood. The trees seem to be stretching out their leafy branches to welcome the rain - it's greener outside my window that I've ever seen it. It's all just so beautiful. But I know that this elusive tranquility hangs by a delicate thread; I know almost for sure that it will be gone tomorrow, and won't be back for a long long time.