Summers seem interminable to me. Most people love the long, warm days; I find them oppressive. No surprise then that the cool, wet weather over the past two days has come as a welcome relief.
For a time, I believed the forecast rain would not come. Dark clouds gathered in the sky, but they did not cast loose the torrent for which I hoped. They hovered there, cooling the day somewhat (though I still needed an air conditioner in my stuffy office), but mostly just taunting me. Finally, on the drive home, the clouds began to sputter.
The real rain held off long enough for me to grill dinner: cheddar brats for Kris and a double cheeseburger for me. (Have I mentioned that I've lost the track of my diet? When I lose the track of a diet, it's difficult to recover form. Thus, I'm eating double cheeseburgers for supper. And pineapple/coconut ice cream for dessert. (Not to mention to many chanticos for breakfast.))
Later, as we sat upstairs watching a movie, the clouds dumped their heavy burden in great torrential bursts. Kris and I stood at the window, watching the rain slush down on the lawn, the berries, the garden.
"This isn't good for the tomatoes," Kris said.
"It's good for everything else, though," I said. Especially good for me, I thought.
The rain fell harder still, and water splashed from the eaves, through the screen, onto the floor. We shut the window. The cats came running in, unhappy. The sound of the rain on the roof was familiar, comforting — it soothed my mind. After the movie had finished, I went downstairs and took a hot bath. I turned off the lights and soaked in the darkness, listening to the last gentle drizzle of the storm.
Did it rain steadily throughout the night? I do not know.
This morning, on the drive to work, the sky was filled with clouds of all shapes and sizes. They were leaden and dark, but as the sun rose their edges were gilted with a silvery sheen. The sky considered the possibility of a glorious multihued sunrise, but opted for something more subtle instead: pale streaks of color laced the whitening clouds, and shafts of sunlight lanced through here-and-there, taking almost tangible form over dusty fields of recently-harvested hay. Every couple miles, a thin patch of fog clung to the ground. Near Lone Elder, I could see a gentle mist of rain falling across a distant field.
It felt like the earth was settling, or the sky, or maybe the entire world. It felt like summer were sighing a deep and mournful sigh, dying, or preparing for a months-long sleep, and that autumn was waking from slumber, ready to take its place.
On this day at foldedspace.org
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Adam & I are looking forward to the cessation of the hot weather too. I think fall is my favorite time of year. The cool weather is only part of it. It is also the new apples and the great colors; the smells and the opportunity to wear a light sweater and not sweat. Adam loves the rain. He loves to walk in it and write about it and just relax in it. He would probably do fine in the Pacific Northwest. I am glad that Tiffany is being welcomed so warmly into the Portland area. Bob and I are looking forward to our visit soon.