Dismal Saturday Coming Down

Hottest day so far in a long string of miserably hot days and the sky looks like it would just KILL to rain.

I always say "it smells like rain" on days like this... usually before I think to stop myself. Because this generally causes people to look at me funny. But it's true, you can smell rain coming, particularly if it's a heavy system moving in from the west. There is a mild tang of sulfur in the air-- lightening wanting to break loose. There is a wetness in the breathing in, a soft edge that tastes of damp ground in the nose and throat.

If you sit on the harbor you can watch it move toward you. Storms follow the river, sit with the tide, and go out when it does. Sometimes they come back in with it, too. There's something elementally amazing about watching a storm follow the line of the river banks, coming at you with what seems like deliberation. There's no malice in it, but you don't matter. Mother nature has a path and nothing in it is of consequence but the passing.

I may go watch. There is a metaphor here worth exploring.