Three days of rain! Yes, we’ve had rain in abundance. Not the quick blast from a passing cloud that pounds the ground with too much water then runs off the desert’s hard surface, but a slow soaking, drizzly mist, with an occasional extra burst of water washing down the sky.
Walking at the Riparian in the rain gives the place an entirely different spin.
I’ve been here literally hundreds of times. I’ve walked the same paths, sat on the same benches, paused at the same spots, turned left at the same tree.
Today is different.
Today rain has changed everything.
Instead of hearing the crunch of gravel under every footfall, I hear the plash and patter of drops through the leaves, a quiet drumming on the water’s surface.
Today the greens are more alive and vibrant with a sheen of moisture and a kind of renewed energy of life.
Today the flower buds on the bushes glow with a difference in the light. This isn’t the usual direct sun, but a diaphanous cloud-filtered light that highlights colors more.
There’s a bush that looks as if it’s been hung with pearls. The raindrops have gathered on the ends of each branch on a small, solid puff-ball, giving the illusion of an ice droplet or a crystallized grain of sand. Nature’s magic at it’s best.
The ducks wander the paths today, not content to stay in their ponds. A turtle plods across a grassy patch and pushes its way into the thick, wet undergrowth.
Swallows dip, soar, swoop, circle, and skim the water’s surface, dancing an intricate and ancient rhythm.
The air is humid with the verdant scent of growth and hope.
I feel newly washed after three days of these gifts from the clouds. Almost anything is possible. Or so it seems.