The rain has been outrageous. Here in the Bay Area, rain is our extreme weather. And every 5th year or so, we get some thunder and lightning, which triggers immediate emails and calls, "DID YOU HEAR IT?" "Naw, are you sure it wasn't just a plane?" This morning around 7am I heard thunder. Twice. I nudged my snoring husband and said, "Did you here it?" Response: "Snoffzzgggl plane." I turned to one of the three cats perched on my body, "Thunder!" They all agreed with me. (Another reason to keep them around.)
An hour later I looked out the front door. To the West the clouds were a deep angry grey with a touch of green. I haven't seen a sky like that since one Kentucky summer 30 years ago. Standing on my porch, I felt my lungs start to shut down. For some weird medical reason, my asthma is triggered by barometer changes. I'd have been a
great asset on a sailing ship in the 1600's... Anyway, within the next hour, we got BIG rain. Couldn't see across the street rain. Or as I like to call it, Rain Dance rain. During our last drought, as the garden lay decimated by winter, I decided to make a real effort to "call the rain," so yes, I did a little dance in my backyard, and yes, there was a little song, too. The flooding raged on for weeks. I'm not saying it was my fault but, shit. I leave those things to Mother Nature nowadays.
All in all I love the rain, except for the poor drowned worms. And the billions of tiny muddy pawprints. And the way hard rain can knock down delicate blossoms that had big plans to become fruit. But the birds keep on keeping on, eating the seed I dash out and give them between downpours. And the squirrels just curve their tails over their heads like built-in bushy umbrellas as they sit smack-dab in the middle of the feeder bowls, scarfing seeds and chewing away thoughtfully.
Mainly for me though, rain is a sign of the coming Spring. Green bits start sprouting everywhere, the wrens check out the nesting boxes under the eaves, and I begin to feel like planting, painting, writing, and joining the living after a lengthy hibernation. So rain on baby. (This is NOT a dance cue.)
