Rain, email, beach time

About 4:00 this afternoon, a glorious thunderstorm turned the world dark and pounded us with water.  I love storms, and storms at the beach are particularly wonderful.

Nothing encourages a relaxed pace--and napping--like a great storm.

Speaking of a slow pace, that's what I'm going to be following over the next two weeks.  I normally respond unhealthily fast to email, but while here my responses will be slow at best.  I do not intend to stay glued to my computer, my phone, or any other device.  I will move on beach time, with even blog entries likely to be late.  I apologize in advance if I leave you waiting a bit, but I need to relax, and I aim to do so.

A magnificent storm

The lightning and the thunder preceded the storm by only seconds, and then the rain slammed into the roof and the skylights over my office like a percussion band launching into a march. It was awesome. I had to stop working and simply enjoy the sound and light show.

After about fifteen minutes, I couldn't stand being inside any longer, so I grabbed an umbrella, ran downstairs, recruited Sarah, and out into the downpour we went. Our feet and shoes and Sarah's long pants were soaked in seconds, but none of that mattered. We stood in the middle of the pounding rain and basked in it. We then walked up the driveway to the cul de sac so we could enjoy the storm without any of the trees blocking it.

Holden hates the storm, as does Shibori, who is visiting as she does most Saturdays. We reassured them, gave them a little love, and then returned to what we were doing as the rain moved on.

Playing in the rain, even mild playing like this, where you don't get completely soaked, is a form of fun most grown-ups have forgetten. What a shame. I'm sure glad I went and played in this storm.

And the rain came

Tonight brought a glorious rain. It started lightly, the sky darkening and the air thickening with moisture. The pre-rain smell was strong and wonderful; I love to stand outside and breathe slowly and deeply so I can fully enjoy the scent. The drops then fell few but heavy, and I thought we might get merely a passing shower.

Then the clouds really went to work, and we were in a doozy of a storm. I had the misfortune to be out driving when the rain turned into a gray curtain limiting visibility to a few car lengths. As luck would have it today, however, everyone on the road with me drove nicely, kept their distance, and played it safe.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the rain much more when I was home, but it was all good. To an area still recovering from drought, this is simply wonderful.

The smell of rain in the air

As I was preparing to get into the shower late this morning (well, okay, technically it was well after noon, but on a Saturday that counts as late morning), Sarah came and told me it was raining and the air smelled wonderful. I decided to risk offending the neighbors, wrapped a towel around myself, and headed downstairs and out into the rain. Sarah walked out with me.

It was glorious. A light drizzle softened the air and made moist the world. Ozone and storm smells permeated everything. Odors both electrical and alive enveloped us.

As I've said many times before, Watterson was right in Calvin and Hobbes: There's magic everywhere. You have only to see it.

And the rain came

It rained all day today, sometimes only a drizzle but at other times a thunderstorm, and it was glorious. Our area desperately needs rain, so that alone was enough to make the day good. I also simply enjoy rainy days, particularly when, as today, I can sleep late. Snuggling under the covers on a dark day with drops plunking against the skylights is a great treat.

The thunder has also prompted hopes--in some, such as Sarah, but not in me--of snow sometime in the next seven to ten days, per the old folk wisdom. I don't see that happening, but I'd certainly enjoy the snow if it came, so in this case I'd prefer they were right and I was wrong.

Now, if we could have a day this rainy twice a week for the next few months, we might actually get out of our drought....

It's cold and rainy and I'm glad

Well, I'm not glad about the cold part, but I am very glad it's raining. We're in the midst of a long and bad drought, so any rain is good. We're not getting much, but I'm glad for every drop that falls.

A plot and a mountain of gifts to wrap are calling my name, so I'll keep it short tonight and hope that your weather pleases you as much as mine does me.

Collecting restaurants, Portland, and rain on skylights

I collect restaurants. Well, to be accurate, I collect memories, and sometimes notes, of meals at great restaurants. (The restaurants themselves simply wouldn't fit in my office, even though it is a big room). On my trip to Portland, OR last week, I ate at three I recommend: Higgins, Paley's Place, and the restaurant at the Heathman Hotel. All three emphasize the use of locally grown, raised, and caught ingredients, and all three meals were quite good. I have to give the nod overall to Paley's Place, but that might change in the future: our server at the Heathman swore that he would arrange a tasting menu the next time I was in town. I look forward to it.

It's raining tonight, and the sound of the rain on the skylights in my office always makes me smile and remember my childhood in Florida, when showers often came around six o'clock and brought the evening cool with them. Good sounds for writing, to which I must return.