"The Heart of Voh, New Caledonia, France" by Yann Arthus-Bertrand

The storm-shower yesterday evening washed away the dull fatigue that was hatched in this suffocating humidity.
The thunder, the lightning, the smell of rain, the smell of earth in the rain, the sound of rain drops, the gleeful people walking in the rain, the splendid sunset after the rain were refreshing.

During the pouring rain, I kept remembering the last canto, "V. What the Thunder Said", of T. S. Eliot's The Wasteland. The canto begins with a drought and a thirst for water. And finally,

In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain
Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves
Waited for rain, while the black clouds
Gathered far distant, over Himavant.
The jungle crouched, humped in silence.
Then spoke the thunder
DA

(ll. 393-400)

Eliot is talking about his concerns about the culture in the early twentieth century to which the rain symbolically offers a relief.
I was remembering the poem on a literal level, however, in the context of the global warming mentioned in the previous entry. What did the thunder say?

Andy suggested we visit Yann Arthus-Bertrand's photography works. I was very very much impressed. It's worthwhile to take a look at his works to appreciate the world that nourishes us.