When I woke up this morning – after sleeping in far longer than usual – I heard the rain. Somehow, it just made me happy. Maybe you share that deep-down-happy-rain feeling. It’s almost genetic. It’s a feeling of peace that comes with growing up a farm kid.
I know we’ve had a dry year and as these storms pass, they make many of us happy. But I’m talking about something different. I can remember rain equaling happiness for many years – having grown up on a dryland farm. Dad grew corn, soybeans and alfalfa and milked Holstein cattle.
Even when you’re a kid and you have no understanding of the economics that go with rolling the dice and growing a crop, you can still feel the Mom and Dad stress. Rain meant Dad would actually spend more time in the house with us that day – after the milking was done. Rain meant he wouldn’t be out stacking hay all night. Sometimes rain even meant that we would all pile in the car and make a trip to Fremont, shopping. That probably wasn’t Dad’s favorite activity. He likely preferred crawling in bed and letting the rain lull him back to sleep until the cows had to be milked again, but sometimes he would go with us.
I remember on one of these trips, we went to a restaurant in Fremont for lunch. We sat around the table and laughed and laughed. I don’t remember what was so funny, except that Mom laughed so hard, she snorted. And then everything was even funnier. Because Mom snorted.
It’s all connected to the rain. That happiness.
I’ve been gone from the farm for 33 years, and still, rain equals happiness.