Dime, tierra quemada, no hay agua?

Doesn't the rain make everything feel so different?

If you're not living around here like I am, let me tell you what--it's been a Heart of Darknessy jungle the last few days. The wind blows all day and all night and the lightning is like a strobe light, that's how often we're seeing it. The thunder is loud and the rain isn't actually coming down a lot but when it does the splots on my windshield are the size of silver dollar pancakes and are so heavy and many that I'm afraid they're going to crack the glass. Then after it rains the sun comes blazing back out for four minutes, glazing everything wet, pulsating, and turning all greens brighter until everyone on campus is walking about the lawns in a daze, mopping their foreheads and wondering where they've been transported to. Then the sun goes back out and everyone feels comfortable to return to the hot, wet sidewalks.

I go to work, I sleep, I make shakes, and I drink them. I run in the mornings and read books and watch movies, and maybe it's that antsy end-of-summer feeling, but it just feels like nothing is happening as much as the storm is happening. I do have eleven mosquito bites whose itching takes up a lot of my time, but the wind and lightning are still winning. I will be sad to see the storm go and return to blazing hotness that makes my car seat burn my legs and the walk to work from my vehicle almost not worth it. The rain makes it feel like we're on a trip.

Even waking up when it's storming is a completely removed experience from waking up when the sun is shining. When I woke up this morning to loud thunder humming through my headboard, I felt compelled to take the day slow and to recognize everything. This is the best way to take days, to smell everything and notice the wrinkles in peoples' shirts. Does that make sense? To squeeze with thumbs and forefingers the textbooks that come in the mail, to run my hands through my hair and shake it over my face to smell it, to walk slowly through the raining leaves even though they sting a little when they hit my uncovered legs and face. It's been thundering like crazy out there for the past few days, but mostly in the mornings and evenings, as though the thunder is waiting to shout until more people are asleep to notice it. The lightning demands attention. My sister walked outside at four am the other morning to watch the lightning, and people continue to tell stories of what they were up doing at five and six am in regards to the weather, too. We made breakfast and hot chocolate last night and I watched the wind blow my curtains horizontally. It just feels like we're all waiting for something. Some little stragglers are continually firing off in diagonal lines over the mountain, not striking anywhere, but just ripping purple into the clouds like a firework. I like to think the great and powerful Oz is over behind that mountain twirling wheels and honking buttons and flipping levers.

Listen to this song. It's about rain. Actually, it's a rainstorm in Spanish. Admire Brianna and Cameron, two unmatched soloists. Listen to the rain sounds we make, and snap your fingers like rain when you walk around, and wait for something, if you want.