I dreamed a tornado turned to rain before landing

I'm standing in a soybean field and the supercell is doing everything wrong — rotating the way a bowl of water rotates when you finally stop stirring it, slow and inevitable. The funnel drops but it never touches down; it just dissolves into this warm sheet of rain that smells like wet gravel and cut grass. I woke up feeling like I'd missed something important, like the storm was trying to tell me where it goes when it doesn't hit.