Petrichor

July oppressive heat was overbearing

As the Scirocco type winds came whipping Down into the valley which was rimmed by Brooding mountains and wilting trees

People went about in a daze

Sapped of energy and entertaining thoughts Of times spent in Northern states

Dogs begin to dig holes to lie in, goats running

Unerringly to cover and birds flying in high patterns To escape.

The soil is parched and caked

Grass turns brown and adopts a droop stance Leaves wilt and surrenders to the relenting heat

But then thunder peals, and the elements are in accord

To intervene in addressing this imbalance in nature Small water droplets kiss the clops of earth

And the olfactory senses are assailed

Of all the aromatic fragrances in nature

None can emulate the earthy pleasant and distinct smell

That frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period

Of warm, dry weather.

I am sure you have wondered at the noun that could nail that singular smell,

It is Petrichor, that is the name of an oil that is released from the Earth into the air before rain begins to fall, and in Grecian lore is the blood of the Gods It has to be.