If the world's sudden greening after two weeks of August rains reminded us of nature's, and our own, powers of recovery, the quick fading of fields and streams after more than two weeks without rain refrained the vulnerability we all share.

How deeply the drought must have filled June and July for the dust to be still waiting beneath the mud when the rain went missing again.

The human spirit can be equally wounded by droughts of a different kind.

Droughts of unkind.

But kindness doesn't depend upon which way the wind blows. A good thing for us all.

We have the ability inside us to erase such droughts, with a word or a touch.

No kindness is too small to keep its flower from blooming.

-JKW-