Eight or nine days straight, three or four more forecast. Well, past mere accumulation of inches. Last night it was first a tickle on the roof, then a tap dance, then a torrent, then a gentle sweeping, then plopping until dawn. What variety! A true maestro-less orchestra fallen from the sky! I listened to it in my spaceship as I read a detective novel. I thought of new rain people in my life, including one new extraordinary fanatic who described people who live in Oregon that use umbrellas as, “weak sauce.” I love that line.
Oh the beaverwood I will find when the rains recede and a low tide exposes the rivers and estuaries! I will have days of hauling ahead of me.
Yes, rain, relentless, formidable, but I have managed to keep the beach streak going and I even built a fort yesterday as the light was coming on, a strange little sitting fort, where someone can sit on a round of wood and stare at the ocean. In the coming rainy days, I may erect a crude roof over the fort. It will, of course, leak.
While walking in rain a few mornings ago, I came across the carcass of a whale. A few beachcomber fiends had already sawed away a quarter of the bones! They will find their way into crafts, totems, instruments, and god knows what else. More people should bring whales into their lives, their homes.
A friend sent me a link to a video linked to rain. A song came on the radio that referenced rain in the typically cliched fashion is presented in songs and books and movies. When really falls hard in Oregon, and when one is paying attention, it so much more than just rain. Meteorologists will never grasp this concept.
I caught Casablanca on TCM the other night while it stormed outside. Some great, great, fake rain scenes in that classic. It’s the black and white that does it. And the fedoras and trench coats! Bogie never uses an umbrella! I think. I want to believe he didn’t. You can’t be tough with an umbrella! It’s also impossible to whip out a revolver in a downpour and shoot a Nazi if you are holding an umbrella. You can’t get the drop on anyone if the umbrella is in your gun hand! Bogey drilled that Nazi good, and then the plane with his great love flew away in rain, and he and Louie walked away in the mist and a beautiful friendship had begun. Friendships that begin in rain are something else. They can’t be dissolved.