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Not everyone around here loves the rain. When it’s gloriously blue and vivid, I encounter the happiest people in the Bay Area. I, on the other hand, thrive when the storm clouds creep, the fog jets under the Golden Gate Bridge — when I capture a few raindrops on film between showers and life in the Bay Area seems worlds apart from those years I spent blistered in the suns of Southern California.
There’s obvious concern over what we’ll do come summer, when showers and flushing and “normal” water usage threaten our remaining drops of potable H20. For that reason, I pray for rain. I’d dance for rain if I had the steps. At the very least, I thank the rain — in the process, soaking up its imagery as the showers soak the soil and quench California’s thirst.
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