I put into quotations what I think they are

“Over the high coast mountains and valleys” the gray clouds marched “in from the ocean”. The wind blew fiercely and silently, high “in the air”, and it swished “in the brush”, and it roared “in the forests”. The clouds came in brokenly, “in puffs”, “in folds”, in “gray crags”; and they piled in together and settled low “over the west”. And then the wind stopped and left the clouds deep and solid. The rain began “with gust showers, pauses and downpours”; and then gradually it settled “to a single tempo”, small drops and a steady beat, rain that was gray to see through, rain that cut midday light “to evening”. And “at first” the dry earth sucked the moisture down and blackened. “For two days” the earth drank the rain, until the earth was full. Then puddles formed, and “in the low places” little lakes formed “in the fields”. The muddy lakes rose higher, and the steady rain whipped the shining water. “At last” the mountains were full, and the hillsides spilled “into the streams”, built them “to freshlets”, and sent them roaring “down the canyons into the valleys”. The rain beat on steadily. And the streams and the little rivers edged “up to the bank sides” and worked “at willows and tree roots”, bent the willows deep “in the current”, cut out the roots “of cotton-woods” and brought down the trees. The muddy water whirled “along the bank sides” and crept “up the banks” until “at last” it spilled over, “into the fields”, “into the orchards”, “into the cotton patches” where the black stems stood. Level fields became lakes, broad and gray, and the rain whipped up the surfaces. Then the water poured “over the highways”, and cars moved slowly, cutting the water ahead, and leaving a boiling muddy wake behind. The earth whispered “under the beat of the rain”, and the streams thundered “under the churning freshlets”.