When it rains, it pours.

Back home in Colorado, rainstorms are precious and life giving.  They can be fiddly and distracted or they can be can after can after can of utter whoopass pouring down on what's left of the rubble of your domicile...  or they can be something in-between.

But they rarely last more than a half an hour.
Hour, tops.

And then the sun comes out and dries up all the rain and the itsy bitsy spider gets back to trying to get up the ol' water spout where it will ultimately die of desiccation.

I just used "desiccation" in a blog.  Booyah.

Out here it rains for days.  It rains cold, it rains hot, it rains up and sideways and loop-de-loop and once, I swear to all the gods that can hear me, it rained bright pink for twenty minutes straight.  It rains steam.  It rains great, blanketty torrents of watergobs the size of your shoes.  It rains whole puddles at once that splat ontop of cars and set off the alarms.  It rains fusty little maple-leaves too, by the way.  Clouds of them at a time getting swept up from their sun-soaked tree branches and then twiddling earthward; a million zillion helicopters all jostling for real-estate in the dog-poop lawn by the parking lot.

Eventually the sun comes out.  Clouds part and tear and scrape away toward the Atlantic and adventures beyond.  Rain-breath rises up from the blacktop and the concrete and the sidewalks and the brick faces on the row-homes.  The clammy temperature of the air rises one single degree and suddenly it's like walking around in someone's mouth.  Musty city steam sticks to everything.  Stormsteam, it lunges at you and hugs you all over and makes your clothes stick and pull and makes (my) hair curl and go wild.  It slicks itself into your bedroom and under the covers and it stifles you with breathy, unwanted kisses all night.

And then the ghost of storms past relents and the weather turns nice again.

Rain out here is so different from rain back home.  But it's still the same damned thing.  Storm builds, storminess descends, aftermath lingers, sun rises again.

Sun always rises again.  In Colorado, it's annoying.  We just get settled in for a long afternoon of rainy weather and then a half hour later it's all disney creatures and rainbows out there and everyone's just basically putting the cocoa away and sneering and getting back to work.  Out here, the sunshine is more of an old friend.  But so is the rain.  You have plenty of time to get to know both.  AND you're always keen for the other one as soon as the first one starts to stick around for kindof too long.

Rain.  It rains.
And then it's sunny.

And there you go.