It rained last night. Around 12:30, I was in bed and thought I saw a flash of light around the room. It happened one more time and then the thunder rolled in and the rain began. Rained well into morning – which is unusual. When I got up, it was raw and wet and a bit cold. And the rain had managed to short out the elevator in my building. Now there are only two ways to get to the parking area in the basement: the outside electronic gate or the elevator. And where was my electronic key? In the car. So I walked outside, preparing to climb over the gate in my work clothes. But someone had left the gate partially open, which saved me a great deal of embarrassment and probably bruises.

After lunch, my usual group walked the parking lot and saw the sky begin to darken again. We walked over to the back of our building – to the water side – to watch for lightning. The wind wasn’t too strong so the clouds took their time. The water had taken on an incredible shade of blue – sort of a metallic aqua. Strangely looking like it was lit from beneath. Between the sky and the water, there had to have been at least six different shades running from top to bottom. Across the water, we could see the sand on the other side bright as day. The belching chimneys of the electric plant were already being drowned in rain. Then a light shower began. We went inside.

Maybe a half hour later, the downpour began. This is the first rain I have seen in broad daylight – 2pm in the afternoon. And in a place where it doesn’t rain much, a downpour will find its way in. Our ceiling sprung leaks in a number of places. Oddly – the sound of rain water dropping into trash bins was very familiar and reminded me of offices past in the City. A short while after the rain stopped, I noticed the birds flying by my window again. The shades were down and I didn’t think much of it because they are always zooming near the windows. But this one was a bit different. When I looked out through the slats – there was a bird looking back. It was pacing up and down my ledge and looking in. Then it would leap up, hit the window and keep pacing. It definitely wanted to be inside and kept looking at me as if to say, “Hey, would you mind…?” I don’t know what kind of bird it was, so don’t ask. It was a greenish-yellow little fat finch-like bird (close enough?) The storm must have totally thrown it for a loop and it was nervous. I watched it try to find its way in for about twenty minutes before some of the maintenance men came around and it took off… hopefully to a nice, quiet place to soothe its jangled nerves.

Be Sociable, Share!

•