Strange how hard it rains now
February 2, 2019
Rows and rows of big dark clouds.
I’m standing here inside this storm, cackling with delight. The storm crow in me rises to greet the front, exultant.
My next-door neighbors are less sanguine about storms. They tease me gently about my love for wet weather, but their teasing doesn’t dampen the part of me that cheers for the raw elemental power.
When I see satellite pictures of hurricanes, my first thought is “Oh, what a beautiful storm!” I feel a little guilty about being swept off my feet by the majesty of a force of nature that undeniably causes so much human suffering, but I didn’t make the hurricane. I am just humbled by its awesome power.
Anyway, it is raining, and the National Weather Service promises me a good storm with all of the elements: torrential downpours, wild winds, everything a storm crow could want.
“They cancelled the storm,” my next-door neighbor texts, “I’m afraid you’ll have to get a life.”
“Don’t parade on my rain!” I text back petulantly.
The redwoods love the life-giving rain, and I am right there with them. We need rain, loads of it, to stave off the annual summer drought. All rainy weather is good, although the flash flood of 2016 might have been just a little too much of a good thing all at once.
As much as I enjoyed it at the time.