True story: Two years ago, in April, I was honored to be a Troubadour Musician at the Umstead State Park annual walk/run/bike fund raiser. The job was simple, to stand by the path the runners, walkers and bikers (non-motorized, of course) came down and to sing, making it a delight as they passed by. At the tented pavilion, I sang a song or two from stage, including “April Showers,” which, being April, seemed appropriate. Out on the trail, I sang many well-known songs, including “April Showers.” By Noon the event was winding down and I returned to the parking lot to put my guitar into the car. The moment I closed the door, it began to rain. The rain came down in drops as large as your fist and the tents raised up with the wind, then fell down with the rain. Tent poles buckled under the inundation of water. As I pulled out onto the street, I could not see two car-lengths ahead, the rain came that hard. The streets ran deep with rainwater, the gutters overflowed; it was the hardest rain of the year.
Last year, I asked if I could come and sing again; it was fun and I got a tee-shirt. I was told I could, but when I checked the calendar, I had already been booked for that day. Heartbroken, I went to my paying gig. I missed my chance to sing “April Showers” at Umstead State Park. What followed was a year containing the worst drought in North Carolina's history. I felt so bad.
This year, as soon as I saw the announcements, I volunteered. On April 19th, out on the trail, in my new Umstead State Park tee-shirt, I sang “April Showers” once again and that night, it began to rain. It wasn't the hard rain of two years ago; it was a soft, gentle rain. It rained for three days, then the sun came out and a day later, it rained again. It rained off and on for two weeks. The TV news has been hesitantly calling the drought over, especially since it is still raining. I have ended the drought, perhaps not single-handedly, but I had a part.
You're welcome.
