Rain

It rained today. Why would I bother to share this news? Well, it hasn't rained in approximately one month. It's dry here. Unwet. How dry is it? It's so dry that I saw camels going through downtown. OK, not really. It's so dry that restaurants aren't giving glasses of water to just anyone. Now that's the truth. You have to ask for water.

It's so dry that the city council announced a complete ban on outside watering because there's only 6 weeks of water left in the reservoir. Six weeks! So, get out the buckets, pails, jugs, and anything else you can collect water in and start collecting because the end is near!!

The water crisis has been a boon for the local paper. They finally have something to write about. We've learned that the good folks at the university aren't going to water the athletic fields, including the hallowed shrine between the hedges, until we get significant rainfall. We'll all just have to sit and watch as the field goes from brilliant green to blue, then becomes a big sandpit fraught with unseen divots big enough to snap a running back's ankle in two. Football just got more interesting. There was no mention of whether the beloved mascot would have to forego his beloved bag of ice at each home game.

As expected, some folks aren't happy about the watering restrictions. According to the newspaper editor, some "selfish" people have taken to calling to give him an earful about how their rose bushes are going to die. Pulling out all the stops, he chastised them soundly, writing what can only be described as the modern day equivalent of public flogging. I bet those folks are very sorry. Or not.

And, of course, we've all had to endure the endless stream of letters about flushing - the scourge of our community. "If it's yellow, let it mellow. When it's brown, flush it down." Grown-ups have included this phrase in their letters. Grown-ups. I can understand the sentiment, but c'mon people, even in this crisis, let's keep our heads! There's no need to resort to silly, contrived, disgusting sayings. Seriously. I'm afraid to go to anyone's house and use the bathroom for fear that I will see evidence of things passed. And, whenever I take care of my own personal needs, I have that stupid saying going through my head. I hope they're happy.

Finally, it rained today. As I walked around downtown, I overheard a couple of conversations that went something like this:

Person 1: The last time it rained, Sally and I got caught in it and we were drenched.
Person 2: I remember that rain storm! I got drenched, too. My friend and I went to my house and threw our jeans in the dryer. We had a cup of tea and waited for our clothes to dry.

And, Person 1: Oh my God, me and Jennifer were coming home one day - back when I lived downtown - and there was this downpour. By the time we got to my apartment, we were soooo wet. I was, like, I've never been so wet.

I knew it hadn't rained in a while, but the nostalgia in these strangers' recollections really made me appreciate how long it had been. Usually, I don't like to be out and about in the rain, but today, I didn't mind. The smell of the damp soil, the sound of the rain hitting the brick sidewalks, the sound of cars splashing through puddles, the feeling of the raindrops hitting the backs of my legs as they rolled off the umbrella, the sight of two people extending their lunch break while standing under the magnolia tree - all welcome sights, sounds, and smells after a long, hot summer.

Maybe now, we can all start flushing again. Probably not. The rain didn't last long enough to make mud.