The rainy season has returned. I hesitate to use that term, "rainy season." When we moved down here in 1998, we had a clear rainy season and then a dry season. There was some blurring around the edges, but never torrential rains in the dry season, like we've seen in recent years.
Still, there's a comfort to thinking that the rain reappears on a schedule. Yesterday, out of the corner of my eye, through the window I saw a flock of white sea birds against a gray, stormy sky. Oddly, my first thought was that it was snowing. If it ever snows in South Florida in June, we will know that the planet has crossed some sort of Rubicon.
Last night, as we enjoyed wine and cheese with our friends in their back yard, we heard storms rumbling towards us. Happily, we live in the same neighborhood, so it didn't take us long to get home. We may have left prematurely--it took awhile for the storms to settle in.
There was some talk of tornadoes and power outages, but our corner of the county was spared. We didn't even get much thunder--or street flooding. These days, with any rain, we keep a wary eye on the water levels on the streets.
I do miss the gentle rains, the pitter patter that lasts all night and soothes us to sleep. We don't have much of that rain these days.
This morning, before dawn, I walked outside to watch the storms approach. The sky pulsed with lightning from the east, but we have avoided thunderstorms so far.
I still have Pentecost on the brain. This morning's light show reminds me that the Holy Spirit has all sorts of tongues of flame, all sorts of ways to get our attention.
Come, Holy Spirit. Talk to us in the language of rain and thunder.
feeling the feelings…
1 year ago