Ginger and the Monsoon Clouds

Every afternoon in the middle of summer, Ginger looked toward the eastern mountains. Great puffy clouds would begin to rise above the peaks.

They grew taller...and darker...and wider...until they looked like giant castles floating across the sky.

Ginger spent much of her time alone, and she didn't mind. Being alone gave her plenty of time to notice things other people sometimes missed.

And she especially noticed the sky.

One afternoon, Ginger was playing in her backyard when she looked toward the mountains. The clouds were growing. Fast. She stood up. "They're coming," she whispered. The wind arrived first. It danced through the trees, making their leaves sparkle silver and green.

The air smelled different. Cooler. Fresher. Almost as if the rain had already whispered hello.

Ginger lifted her face and took a deep breath. Something was about to happen.

Birds flew lower across the yard. They seemed to know the storm was coming.

Ginger watched the clouds continue to build.

Their edges glowed bright white where the sunshine touched them, but beneath them hung curtains of gray rain stretching toward the earth.

"They're beautiful," Ginger whispered. She wasn't sure why she wasn't afraid.

The clouds looked dark and enormous, but somehow they didn't feel angry. They felt full. Full of something the desert had been waiting for.

Then...a flash of lightning danced across the distant sky.

Ginger counted silently. One...two...three...a gentle rumble rolled across the mountains. Not loud. Not frightening. Just enough to let the earth know the rain was on its way.

Ginger smiled. "I heard you." The first raindrop landed on her hand. Then another. Then another.

She held out both hands and watched the drops disappear into her palms. Soon the rain was tapping softly on the porch roof and pattering against the dry ground.

The yard drank every drop. Tiny puddles formed around rocks. The thirsty plants lifted their leaves as if they were saying thank you.

Ginger watched until the rain finally began to slow. The clouds drifted west. Sunlight broke through.

And then Ginger saw it.

A rainbow stretched across the valley, reaching from one side of the toward the other. "It looks like the sky is smiling," she said. She stood there for a long time, watching the colors fade.

The next morning, Ginger hurried outside.

Things had changed overnight. The grass was greener. The sage smelled sweeter than ever. Bees floated above clover blossoms that hadn't been there the day before. Even the birds seemed to sing louder.

Ginger knelt beside a tiny white flower growing in the grass. "I didn't know you were there," she whispered. She looked around. There were flowers everywhere.

Not many. Not enough to fill a garden. But enough to make her smile.

Then Ginger remembered the storm. The flowers hadn't appeared because the rain had created them overnight. They had been there all along. Waiting. Waiting beneath the dry earth for the right moment to come.

Ginger thought about the dark clouds. From far away, they had looked gloomy. But they had carried something the land needed. Rain. And the rain had awakened things that had been waiting quietly beneath the surface.

Ginger sat and looked toward the mountains. She wondered how many other things were waiting where she couldn't see them. Maybe some things needed time. Maybe some things needed rain. Maybe some things simply needed the right moment.

Whenever monsoon clouds gathered over the mountains, Ginger didn't worry about their dark color. She watched them with wonder. Because she knew that sometimes the sky has to grow dark before the earth can bloom.

And sometimes the most beautiful things are waiting quietly beneath the surface...until the rain comes.