Rain

Rain. I love the stuff. I am, and have always been, a pluviophile. Roll that one around in your mouth, pluviophile. I was unaware of that condition. A few years ago I found out about it. I love it too.

If it were snowing most people would be enjoying it. Bring a bit of warmth, something everybody seems to enjoy, and the snow is no longer enjoyable. But why?

Albuquerque. That is a place where people who love rain do not go. But if they find themselves there, they are joined with people, at least, not complaining about rain. There is so little of it there. And it comes at a fun time. July and August is the “monsoon” season there. About once a week it rains briefly. Just enough to take the edge off of the heat. One could even hear peole talking about how nice it was. Or hear frogs. What do they do the rest of the time without rain is a mystery. But they do whatever frogs do without lots of water.

Autumn. Trees leaves change color and fall and get racked up into heavy wet piles. Because we are in the pacific northwest and it rains. Sewer grates clog up with leaves. The flooding is like our snow drifts. Except no one likes them.

If you are out … wait, none of you like here. Nevermind.

There is a web site for pluviophiles. I had to look up the spelling, which I do by getting as close as I can and doing a web search. Close enough and you have the spelling and some new to you websites and all the new things you did not know.

Today is day one of the lockdown in Oregon. If you are in Portland it is four weeks of lockdown. It won’t stop the rain.

— MichaelRpdx :: ih3k

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