Rain, at last. At noon today, they’re rescinding the Stage II fire restrictions. It’s all happening just in the nick of time, with two days until the official start of Autumn. I cannot get over the “synchronicity” of the dreadful Mexico City earthquake yesterday, occurring on the same date as the catastrophic one in 1985. I read that to commemorate the 32nd anniversary, they had practiced earthquake drills earlier in the morning. In the NYTimes, one resident was quoted as saying, “It’s like Sodom and Gomorrah, like God is angry at us.”
Well, the gods are being merciful with us this week. To step outside the door and feel that humidity and cool air, feels like a divine intervention. Driving into town, I turn the radio off so I can listen to the rain on the windshield and the rhythm of the wipers. There is something about that sound which takes me back to being a little girl in Ohio, and how our family vacations out west eventually brought us to the Pennsylvania Turnpike, driving at night, back to home. We four kids would be bedded down in the way back of the station wagon, trying to sleep. It always seemed to be raining, and in the dark, I’d watch the lights on the highway illuminate raindrops on the back window, and the sound of the wipers was a comforting melody to home. Maybe that explains why I love the rain so much. It means being safe in family and home somehow.
We fly out of here tomorrow, to be with the California family and their 70 degree coastal sunshine. It’s supposed to rain here the whole time we are gone, and sunny Fall days upon our return. Ah, the quality of mercy…
The quality of mercy is not strain’d.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.