By Friday morning, I was growing tired of watching the rain fall and run down the hill near my house. The road had a rut in it that was channeling water down the hill.

Luckily, that channel does not affect my driveway. I live down below the road, but still on the side of a big hill. The water from the hillside in front of the house usually channels around the kitchen and flows down the hill like a little stream.

The forecasters were calling for about a week of continual rain. This is one time I am glad they were wrong — about as wrong as they could be. Ivan didn’t stall out, but instead swept across and moved away, just like a good storm should. In the early stages, it seemed like it might be even more fierce than the storm a week earlier, but I was more than shocked Saturday when the clouds cleared away and the sun started shining.

It always feels like a burst of joy when I first see the sun after a long period of rain. I feel like I am coming out of hibernation; maybe for good reason. When it rains, my body thinks it is a good time to go to sleep. I don’t like to feel sleepy all day, but sometimes it seems unavoidable. There just isn’t enough coffee in the world.

I remember when I used to work in construction years ago, I almost always got the day off when it rained. Granted, there were times when an inside job could be done, but generally, we didn’t work in the rain. I always looked forward to rainy days, much the way school children pray for snow. I can remember having envious thoughts of those who had ‘inside jobs,’ especially when I was cold or otherwise uncomfortable.

Now, I work inside most of the time and watch the world go by through a big plate glass window, wishing I had more time outdoors. The grass is always greener until you have to eat it.

After a particularly heavy rain, there is also usually a small pond in the front yard at the house. Water generally gathers around the front of the flower bed, where I have a few mountain laurels transplanted. They seem to enjoy the wet weather and are growing well in the shady environs of the water-logged mulch bed. I have yet to figure out the best way to clear out the standing water and it is usually gone pretty quickly. I think the concrete (not cement, like I said last time) porch stops it on its way down the hill and causes the problem. I don’t have the energy to dig a trench long enough to fix it.

I was concerned about the miniature herb garden I started around the house, but I think mints like water. I also received some garlic plants a few years ago from Walter Bell, which have followed me around everywhere that I have lived. I separate them and move them with me as I go, but I haven’t seen the success that Walter manages to get from his plants. I suppose it takes more than the right plants to grow the perfect garden.

After the sun came back out on Saturday, I was pleased to find out that the trees around the house had fared pretty well. The big pines had dropped enough needles to make the barren areas beneath them green and fragrant. The last of the pine cones, still holding on from last season, fell out of the Norway spruce and littered the driveway.

The maple and apple trees still looked healthy. Not so for the grand old apple tree at my parents house. It was still bearing a late fall load of apples, many as big as a fist, when the wind came whipping across the hill. It broke over and fell into the other tree just below it.

There are three old trees there, but only one ever bore much fruit. Sadly, the others remain standing, but the best one has fallen. The apples were always ready in late fall and of the ‘winter’ variety — hard, tart apples that keep well in the cellar.

I plan on trying to cut the top of the tree and straighten the trunk if I can. Maybe it will come back if a few limbs are left on it.

The ground is just so soft now, the roots seem to have just popped out of the ground. The big load of apples probably didn’t help things much. Traveling around the county on Saturday, the marks of two weeks of rain were evident on the face of the land. But the water was going back inside the banks of the streams and rivers, but it still looked muddy and upset. Without a few rainy days, how would we ever appreciate the sun?

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