In San Diego there is fire, and here there is rain. At last the drought has broken.
Of course it chose to break when I was on the road to Raleigh to see the bishop (and a couple of other people at the diocesan offices), though I was almost there when it started. But then it REALLY poured, as in can't-see-in-front-of-you-and-it's-so-bad-you-almost-pull-off-the-road, when I was on the way back and it was already dark. 180 miles total, about 100 in the rain.
It is very wet, the geese have been out all day (this part of NC is overrun by Canada Geese who apparently were migrating South from Yankeeland and decided not to keep commuting and just settle here in the milder climes) (otherwise they are quite stupid birds), and the earth is happy.
I am exhausted. Endless work at school, plus the long drive and not enough sleep.
Needless to say, the road looked nothing like this painting (Rainstorm, Union Square by Childe Hassam, 1890) but the only picture of cars on a rainstormy road I found on the Web was from Australia and it had far fewer cars than we had on Route 85/40; also, they were driving on the left. And this is more beautiful.