George Harrison is singing with handclaps and harmonica on satellite radio while the dryer in the next room sings backup with a steady "ooooooohhh" (rhymes with stew.) A metal snap or zipper clicks offbeat as it tumbles around and around. The family sleeps. No other sound. I'm up too late again, but if I wasn't, things like initiating this blog would never get done. Outside a nearly full moon has found a sky full of the season's first "weather system" clouds to run through and hide behind. Rain predicted. The air smells like water - sky water brewed from a weeks worth of unseasonably hot days. October days all dressed up like their September sisters. The Santa Anas have kept the smog away, giving the LA and Orange coast a rare warm view of Mount Baldy without snow. Several times a year we wake in amazement to discover that our mountains are actually out there, and not disappeared in the usual haze.
Now we're told the rainy season has been deployed. We need it. I enjoy the rain. In the morning, after Church, my kids will seek out old boots and umbrellas to go out splashing in it. I hope it pauses in the afternoon, just long enough to get in my brothers planned barbeque. Celebrating the October birthdays. The family needs a gathering, and the meat has already been purchased.
Judy Collins is looking at clouds now. I think I will too before blowing complines candle out. Night. God bless.