writingdownthestory in Morning Sentences

Morning Sentences

Petrichor*

0450PDT

Pouring the rain
pounding on the roof
rushing through the downspout
a single rumble of thunder
rolls down the valley
accompanied by a flash of lightening
then all is quiet
and the parched earth begs,
“More, please.”

0615PDT

A gentle rain falls
wind whispers through
the fir trees
the petrichor wafts
through the open windows
and the thirsty earth sighs,
“Thank you.”

“petrichor: the scent that fills the air when rain falls on long-dry earth

Published by

Gretchen Staebler

I am a Pacific Northwest native transplanted to the southeast for 36 years. In 2012, I returned to my childhood home and fell in love with this corner of the country again. I am a grandmother, a storywriter, a teacher, an attention payer, a hiker, and a back roads wanderer.

2 thoughts on “Morning Sentences”

  2. I heard the storm, from my favorite place to listen to a rainstorm: the bed under the attic-less ceiling. Thanksgiving for meaningful rain!

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    Reply

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