Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

I have never liked rain much. It’s wet. It’s inconvenient. It takes the curl out of my hair.

But I’ve learned how important those droplets of water are, because we haven’t had many this summer. In fact, the newspaper reports we’re in a drought condition.

Personally, I haven’t missed the rain; but my flowers and my lawn certainly have. Equally important, farmers and firemen and firewomen have serious concerns about the dryness of things in general. Crops lag; water levels dip; and fire is a greater hazard than usual.

Each night we hear the weatherperson say something the equivalent of, “There is a slight chance of a shower tomorrow.” And each tomorrow is as dry as the yesterday it follows. This doesn’t speak well for the ability of weatherpeople to prognosticate. They can’t be that wrong all the time. So I think it’s a conspiracy to make the public feel hopeful and less anxious, when the truth is there is no rain on the horizon.

Medicine men once had a potent rain dance in their arsenal of tribal remedies. At this point, if one is out there, could you please get your rain gear and do your dance . . . only do the one where it rains just at night.

Then I personally could still enjoy the drought.