The answer is: Mist went up from the earth

Gen 2:6

In the serene unfolding of the creation story from Genesis, we catch glimpses of an earth before rain clouds painted the sky. Instead of the typical drops we might expect today, water first emerged in an intriguing way: as a mist. This delicate shroud gently enveloped the ground, nourishing it without the dramatic torrents we associate with storms now.

In Genesis 2:6, we learn that this mist didn't just serve a practical purpose; it wove a rich tapestry of life, sustaining lush gardens and verdant valleys long before they tasted the heavens’ rainfall. It coincides with the vivid imagery of God gardening, planting the Garden of Eden—a picturesque paradise overflowing with potential.

It's fascinating to note that ancient Near Eastern texts often depict the creation of life in a mixture of transformative waters and terrestrial elements—a theme that echoes across cultures. In this creation tale, earth and water dance in harmony. Interestingly, the man becomes a more intimate illustration of this relationship, as he is fashioned from the very soil, God forming him not just out of dust but out of the Earth itself, emphasizing a profound connection between humanity and creation.

The mist also invites us to reflect on how we understand nourishment. Mirroring our need for the unseen sustenance in life—hope, love, and knowledge—we realize how essential they are, just like that original mist that richly endowed the Earth, well before needed rains arrived.