To my left, I see midnight blue mountains rolling in the distance. They blend with the lighter blue-gray sky. In the foreground, the closer mountains are green with wisps of white clouds floating heavenward. The mist between the mountains looks like smoke, only it lies in the lowlands allowing the tops of the mountains to peek through. Straight in front of me the taller mountains have a commanding presence above the mist. They tower over the smokey fingers of white that are grasping at the sky. As the clouds roll across the valley below they thicken to a blanket that covers everything to my right. Over my head the sun shines through the cotton, while over the mountains dark storm clouds are raining in the distance. Some of the cotton is pink now, adding a delicate blush of color to the scene. The fluffy white blanket is spreading now and soon there will be no mountains at all; only clouds. More rain may be on the horizon, but for now the clouds are content to float lazily as if in slow motion.
The rain has been a welcome friend these past couple of days. Trees have been waving their arms in thanks. The rivers are high and the streams are gurgling; singing with new enthusiasm. All the earth is praising God. I must join my voice and thank him for the rain.