"Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life." John Updike
It never rains here. And for once, I am not being dramatic or hyperbolic in this assertion. It never rains here. I honestly do not remember a drop of precipitation from May until September.
|Henri Cartier-Bresson's Gare St. Lazare in Paris|
Now, sweet October has brought torrential downpours---even the first clap of thunder that I have heard in five years of living in California.
As a former Midwesterner, thunderstorms were habitual, a constant of each season, nothing special. Because we experience rain so infrequently here, I find myself relishing in a storm, waiting for the dark clouds to open up and let down their welcome rain. Like New Yorkers who long for the sun in the midst of a long February, I greet a good rainstorm giddily.
If lightening wasn't bolting from the sky, I'd surely be spinning around the wet pavement Gene Kelly style.Images borrowed from here, GwenLafage, here, BlurDot.