Here on the driest continent on earth
the smell of rain was named.
Eminent CSIRO scientists both,
Isabel Bear and Richard Thomas,
intrigued by the phenomenon of this unique odour,
so familiar to we hardy souls who love our sunburnt country,
chose a name for it that evokes Greek gods,
Petrichor, they called it, the blood of the stone.
Recognising this scent,
cattle on arid land,
though long unfamiliar with rain,
And, as the humidity rises,
its promise of rain as yet unrecognised
except by them,
Tiny tiny amounts of moisture seep into thirsty
clay and rocks and soil
and work their magic
deep in the very pores of them
until the oil so named for the fluid of the gods
is flushed out
in multitudes of minuscule champagne bubbles of petrichor,
each one redolent with that welcome 'here comes the rain' smell,
as the earth sighs and opens
and the rain that the humidity promised,
brings life and relief and renewal
and carries the warm earthy aroma of that tenuous essence derived from stone
into the wind,
joyously spread far and wide.
So too, kindness and listening and acceptance
opens a soul shrivelled and hardened from a longtime lack of love ....
And as it responds to love
the subtle aroma of trust is emitted,
warm and earthy just like petrichor…