I live in a valley between scurrying oceanside sands and long mountain shadows, so days like today—veiled at the outset by a soaking blend of drizzle and fog—are normal. Seasonal. But not in June. Not with summer tantalizingly close (so we’re told). The expected rainfall for the entire month has been exceeded in five days. Roadside vegetation grows unchecked, engulfing fences and mailboxes. Sheets of water cover the saturated farmlands with muddy gray reflections, threatening strawberries and delaying the hay harvest. The weekend humming of garden tractors and mowers is strangely absent.
So it is a perfect day for—daydreaming. Making plans. Anticipation. (I have my road atlas open to the maps of Arizona and Utah, as I plot a route for October—so far away!) If summer appears to hesitate, run towards it and startle it into motion.
Just remember to take an umbrella.