BOOM!
Thunder in the distance echoes, followed by a spectacular flash of light. The crack in the dark sky spikes and shoots of in all manner of direction, trailing little bits of static to stick in the eye just after it leaves. Sitting on the porch of the old farmhouse brings back memories.
Years and years ago, I remember a day like today. A day when it was as if… the dark sky was never going to clear. When the lightning would never stop striking. When the rain would never go away. As I sit out on the porch of the house I grew up in, the house I started a family in, the house my parents left without a chance to say goodbye, suddenly, the rain leaks in.
It’s always very specific, that rain. It doesn’t leak in clear weather, it doesn’t even leak in other seasons, but on stormy days like today, the rain always finds a way. I let out a sigh and a few words escape my lips.
“Has it… really been almost three decades now?”
“Hmm?” The lump on my lap stirs. He yawns, rubs at his eyes, then finds mine. “Somethin’ wrong Mama?”
I pat the colt’s head and shake mine. “No, Whiskey.”
A little more alert now, he tilts his head. “Are ya… are ya cryin’ Ma?”
I clicked my tongue. Observant little brat. “No, no, it’s just a stray raindrop. The porch roof always leaks on days like today, don’t’cha know?”
The six year old frowned. “No…?” he turned his head all around to see the most definitely not wet interior of the porch, then stared at me again. “Don’t look like it leaks… Are ya sure?”
I rolled my eyes and pulled the boy to my chest. The oldest, the most observant of his brothers and sister, the most like his father, oddly enough. Three years apart from the twins, five from the baby, and likely soon to have another gap if the old saying is true. April showers bring May flowers, and Apples have a habit of blooming in May.
On rainy days like today, I can’t help but feel compelled to come out to the porch and sit and watch the storm. Granny used to sit in this chair and Rock with Pa when they were young, Ma did the same thing with me, for what little time we could, and now I find myself out here. Maybe some habits are in the blood. Cutiemarks that seem hereditary like the ones the Apple family tends to get might suggest that, but who knows?
My forelegs wrapped around the little orange colt, I stroked his mane and rocked with the wind. “Absolutely. Whiskey, have Ah ever told ya about April showers?”
An ear flicked up, then down, then up again. Brows furrowed, he shook his head. “Ah… don’t think so?”
“Well, now’s as good a time as any. Never know when Gin is gonna wake up next. Course, she sleeps through anythin’ like yer Pa does, so we might have the time.”
“Okay. What about ‘em? Ah can’t ever sleep when it’s all stormy like today.”
I nodded. “Oh, Ah would know. Somepony has a habit of rootin’ around in my bed on stormy nights like today.”
He looked away and scratched at his white mane. “O-oh… do they?”
I raised a brow. “He does.” I patted his head again, adjusted my hind legs to sit him up better. Slowly, I rocked as I remembered the story.
“When Ah was… yer age, my granny told me a story on a day like today. Things had been real hard on us back then since yer aunt was just born and yer—your granny didn’t quite make it. It was… always rainy in April. Ponyville wasn’t really constructed back then like it is today because we didn’t have a lot of the things we do now. Much of the technology we have came from after Princess Twilight started bringin’ things back through that mirror, which was… oh, nearly a decade and a half ago now that Ah think about it.”
I shook my head and let out a sigh. “Time sure does fly when ya get older. But, when Ah was yer age, Ah didn’t think that the rain would ever stop. The skies were always cloudy, yer Pappy was miserable, yer Uncle Mac wouldn’t say two words, and the farm was… real quiet, when Applebloom wasn’t cryin’, of course.
“Ya see… even on clear days, it would always rain. She storm might move away from the sky, but the dark over the farm was here ta stay, and it wasn’t goin’ away any time soon.”
“But… how does that work? If it’s clear out… how can it be stormy?”
I swallowed. “Son, there are days that could be as bright and beautiful as they’ll ever be, but some storms refuse ta stop ragin’ on, even when the weather changes. Thankfully, that’s not somethin’ you’ve learned yet. Ya will, one day, but Ah pray that it’s never fer the same reasons Ah did.
“April showers come every year, without fail, and they always bring a stormy day and a down pour. Ya lose sight of the sky, the light seems so far away that it won’t ever come back, and you’re convinced that even when you’re dry, yer eyes always find a way ta get rained on.
“It was… when my Granny and Ah were sittin’ in this very chair one day durin’ a storm just like this one that she told me this.
“She said, ‘Applejack, when it rains, it pours. A truth of this world is that things always have a habit of gettin’ worse before they get better. One minute, you’ll think the storm is lettin’ up, that things’ll clear right up if ya just hold out a little longer, and then—
“The bottom drops out and Ponyville is flooded again.’”
I leaned in and whispered, “Back then, Ponyville had a real floodin’ problem. It was good fer the trees, but often left roads a muddy mess and nopony could get carts or goods anywhere. Be thankful fer modern roads. Ya may never know how hard it is ta try and get a cart full of cider out of the mud and that is a blessin’, Ah tell ya what.
“Anyways, she went on, ‘But, the thing about April showers is—they always bring May flowers. No matter how bad the storm gets, no matter how dark the days may seem, so too shall this pass. And at the end of it all, the flowers that bloom in place will be stronger fer havin’ endured all that rain. they’ll grow big and bright and fragrant, and each and every one of them will be happier fer their time in the sunlight.’
“My granny always said that things in life happen, and it’s our job ta weather the storm ta see the sun again. Because, when we do get ta see it, it’s always a better day than we remember. So, Whiskey, if ya ever feel that ya can’t weather the storm, remember that the flowers will come back one day. All the darkest storms Ah ever faced always found a way ta get somethin’ ta bloom later on. Ah think you’re probably my favorite aftermath.”
He cocked his head to the side. “After… math?”
I shrugged. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” Suddenly, I felt a yawn coming on and stretched out my back. Then, I took notice of the clock up above the door frame. “Oh, geez, Fin’s gonna be home any minute now. How about ya help me make dinner real quick?”
Ears alert and a smile creepin’ up his face, he said, “Can we make tacos?”
Do I have the ingredients for that? Eh, if Fin’s still out, he can run by the store fer us. If not… we’ll figure somethin’ out. “Why not, let’s go fer it.”
“Yay!” Whiskey leapt off my lap and darted back inside. I got out of the old rocking chair and stretched my legs. Don’t know how long I was sitting there, but something off in the distance caught my eye. A little break in the clouds. A singular beam of light as the rain started to slow, fell daintily on an apple tree.
Just there in the evening sunlight, was the first blossom of Spring.
