A day of thanksgiving.
Last fall, our water well line had to be replaced. They cut a deep trench in the earth running 1000 feet from the well to our home. The trench was roughly backfilled, and a promise made to return in the spring, after the ground had settled, to smooth out the ugly welting scar left behind.
Spring turned to summer, leaving the promise unmet. Phone calls were made. No response. Hope gave way to frustration, despair. And then...
When hope had run dry, he appeared to fulfill his promise. The grinding, tamping, machine left bare, smooth brown in its wake. Soon scattered seed will cover the brown with green again.
Gentle rain began to fall as he worked the ground. I took time to stand in the wet and watch its glory fall from the gutter,
scattering transparent pearls upon the roses,
the leaves,
the lavender,
and quenching the earth's thirst.
A promise kept, refreshing as a gentle rain.
#66 a promise kept
#67 hope restored
#68 smoothed earth
#69 gentle rain
#70 transparent pearls
#71 roses
#72 raindrops falling from the gutter
#73 the promise of green
#74 healing of scars
#75 quenching of thirst
#76 refreshing
