Rain, Rain, Rain

Wholly molely [sp?] You have never seen rain like this. At 5:00pm last evening dark clouds rolled over the western mountains carrying a payload of cold rain. Thunder shook the hillsides. Lightning lit the grey-blue sky. Birds flitted from branch to branch. Children ran. Women holding babies scurried home in the moments hesitation before the dump.

I was walking. I was meandering. Meeting new neighbors in the street. Talking about flowers. Getting used to the pavement. Getting used to the idea of living in San Ramon. Getting used to the smiles on the street. And the indifferences too.

I was walking when the clouds emerged from behind the houses. You could see them, dark grey, climbing over and peaking out from overhangs and the gutters, around corners. In moments the mountains visible from the street were enveloped. In seconds the street was flooding. Dogs ran for cover. Sound was full of water. Nothing could be heard.

I run for cover under a mango tree. Thick, lush and green. A small river forms on the far side of the street and little candy wrappers float by. After a few minutes a neighbor that I don´t know hails me to come under their patio roof.

I find myself inside their home for 45 minutes waiting out the storm. Rocking on a rocking chair. Wondering how big the drops of rain could be.