I drove down to the field late in the afternoon and sat in the truck for a few minutes thinking about :rain, prayer, and hardware stores. I thought about how tenuous the whole process was before wells and pipes. In that moment, it seemed to me that the first prayers were about water and food. In a time before weather girls and meteorologists people depended on nature to irrigate. Hours were spent staring helplessly into the sky and hoping that someone or something would turn on the faucet and increase the possibility of living another year or season.
I was alone when the sprinklers came on but I felt the presence of others. There was Don from the plumbing store, Becky from Ace, Sprinkel, Bizzy and Trey nodding patiently, knowingly. I sent out a text to a couple of people concerned with my progress and marched out into the spray for some minor tweaking. I relished the splash of cold water on my back and the droplets that hung from the rim of my cap. I know it seems funny to say but I was proud of myself. Sure, I had made it rain before but it felt like the first time that the clouds were mine.