The rain came yesterday evening on the drive home. In a line of cars, red tail-lights glowing, just below the Getty Villa on Pacific Coast Highway, it started, the drops on my windshield so fine I thought it was another car's washer fluid, then like a spray hose opened up, full, and I turned on the wipers.
As we inched up the canyon road, windtossed rain hurled itself intermittently at the car, road slick beneath, snaking up the S-curves.
The flat roof on our post-and-beam house is like a drum-head for the rain; last night's rain was like the tap and stroke of deft fingers on a tabla. It went on steadily all night; awake in the dark and you hear it above.
1 comment:
It might be messy, but it makes for nice pics!
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