Dear Curiosity Journal,

June greets us with a slap of dusty heat, the type of weather that makes farmers watch the clouds and beg for rain. We’re running irrigation, moving sprinklers, and watering animals from sunrise to sunset. The planting must go on, but the rain doesn’t come. The soil is parched and crackling under my knees, leaving little divots up my legs. The onions go limp when they hit the garden bed, just like when you throw them in the frying pan, so we set up sprinklers right behind us as we transplant, pouring life-giving water into the land and watching it thankfully perk back up. A light shower passes overhead too quickly, only dropping enough precipitation to keep the dust down for the day. It wasn’t enough. Before I became a farmer, I never wished for rain, only begged it to go away. Now I value it as a vital life ingredient, as necessary as the sun. Dear Mother Nature, I’m so sorry that I ever hated on your beautiful element of rain, please send some our way.