Rain floated over wide, open land. Fields stretched in neat rows, waiting under a pale sky. Some plants drooped, their leaves dusty and tired.
He slowed himself, letting drops fall gently at first, then more steadily. The dry soil darkened, softening under his touch. Little streams formed between the rows, carrying water to every corner.
An old farmer leaned on his fence, watching the rain with quiet satisfaction. His hat brim dripped, but he didn't move - he just breathed in the cool, damp air. Somewhere nearby, a dog shook the water from its fur and settled back under the porch.
The wheat swayed and whispered as Rain soaked their roots. He could almost hear their soft voices say, "Thank you." There was no rush here - only steady, patient work, like planting seeds and waiting for the season to turn.
Rain understood that sometimes the most important thing you can do is simply show up. You don't need to be exciting or fast to matter. You just need to give what's needed, when it's needed.
When the ground had drunk its fill, Rain began to rise again, carrying the farm's quiet gratitude with him.