The thunder started well before sunrise.  I know because Samson the ‘Fraidy-Dog woke me.

At some point I was aware that the sky was pouring forth rain.  And in my sleepy state, I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving.

As I write (after French toast from my homemade bread) at 9.43 a.m., rain is falling in a steady pour.  The parched earth must be truly grateful.  I know that I am.

Samson, on the other hand, is not liking the glorious thunder.

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