You know, I'm not sure at all what June showers bring. The flowers have been here and the garden is growing but only because I planted really late this season.
The weather, always a sort of crapshoot down here in the Mississippi Delta has been utterly unusual the last two days. It's been nice, you see. The sky has been filled with scads and gobs of clouds; huge puffy things, white and billowing. The wind has stayed up too, which is equally odd. Usually land this flat doesn't really generate a lot of place for wind to form and play, but the past two days we've kept a steady, nice breeze up.
The best part? Showers. Small ones, tiny even. Sun all day, the breeze carrying gleefully singing birds along, leaves flying and dancing. The clouds drift by over head making shapes for imaginative people to look up to, and then out of this sky a rain shower out of nowhere.
Now ordinarily a rain shower in the midst of summer in LA is grounds for a great weeping and gnashing of teeth and rending of garments. Rain in the midst of heat the likes of which we get is the same as making all outdoors into a giant Turkish bath, hold the benches, the tile, and the sweaty people in white fluffy towels. Extra on the sweating please. Rain in the midst of this sort of heat makes the roads steam thickly, like a wet black iron skillet over a stove burner.
This past week however there was none of that. The wind has kept the temperature down enough that you could step foot outside without instantly breaking into a sweat, and the rain seemed every day to come and leave again within five minutes, leaving everything brighter. Today after the rain the grass seemed greener, the asphalt of the parking lot gleamed like ebony and everything smelled clean and fresh and new.
I know that the passing days will take that comfortable temperature away, will replace it with the "damp wool blanket fresh from an oven" feeling that summer here has, but for now it was enough to simply stand in the doorway and watch the drops fall.