rain-soaked San Diego

The first drops of Friday rain sparkle through my head, left ear, vast listening, coffee-ending, having recently read, “Things are not as they seem, nor are they otherwise.”

For the first time in nine months (living here) I can feel a stirring of air, breeze cousin, me in the lop-sided recliner, the most gentle air slipping in secret through the tiniest taped air conditioner window entry ways. Stories call me — what’s different? The rain sparkles out there, now in here. Wow — a gust of wind, middle of the night weather, and just an hour ago, or less, I was out in the then deserted street, wary of skunks, looking up at, and bowing to, the big dipper.

Rain-soaked San Diego. Blue sky mind.