I could see my breath on my walk this morning. There were puddles in the street, here and there, leftovers from all yesterday’s rain. The plants, flowers, and trees were exalting in their watered-attention. It’s real easy to see, here in the seaside desert, when thirsty is the usual presentation.
We’ve had a lot of rain here the last three weeks. Not as much as LA, which hasn’t had as much as Santa Barbara, which hasn’t had as much as San Francisco, and my pal David there hasn’t see as much as the PZI folks in Santa Rosa. Most of whom, though, have had more than Portland. Some God’s stand-up comedy routine, maybe.
No kitties on the stroll amidst all this morning’s wetness, lots of singing birds. I wonder, because I don’t know other than maybe wild guesses, where the birds go when it’s pouring down rain? I’d like to think there are bird hostels, and it doesn’t cost anything to stay dry in them, in fact there’s a big welcoming and celebration for each new arrival – robin, chickadee, morning dove. Plus free food, which I’d bet includes seeds and nuts as well as already dead earthworms. But that’s me, thinking birds aren’t doing the vegetarian thing.
At the end of my walk I found Diego sitting at his usual table up against the Starbucks next door from where I stay. My hostel of sorts. He probably had dried off the seat he was sitting in, all the others visibly splashed with raindrops, and he stood to welcome me – see, like the birds are welcomed at the hostel – hosts and guests – and gave me a fist-bump. It’s his way, and he said “I’m waiting for you,” which wasn’t and isn’t about coffee but about him saying “Yes” when I asked if he’d help me learn Spanish maybe a month ago. I think we settled on January 23rd as the day of our first lesson. I’ll probably be older then, even – get this – maybe wiser. My heart’s bigger than it used to be – in all the right ways – and when Diego offers his friendly finger-closed fist to me, I can already hear, “Hola, amigo” from within it.
The way the birds were singing out to me all through the walk – buenos dias.