Blessed, blessed rain. I hope it lasts long enough to make a difference. I’m willing it down to my yard, drawing it toward me, and the rain (of course) lets up to a tentative patter… …then lightning strikes far too close, sending chills up the back of my neck – too much power, too close. When I give up trying, the rain returns, hard.
I don’t know what I’m doing, but I learned (again) I can’t command – I can only ask. 20 minutes later, it’s done.
Just at the edge of clouds – rain to the north. Here it’s too dry for the clouds to last. The tips of the trees are over-extended – flowers, too – grown too far, too fast; wilting in the heat.