Rain. It’s been raining steadily since last Saturday. This morning the sun was out briefly, but it’s gone now. The clouds have returned.

They say this may be one of the coldest months of May on record for this area.

Cold. Wet. Green.

The tree trunks are black with rain. The moss, bright green.

I am thinking of the desert. The hard ground, dusty. The wispy plants barely tethered to the ground. The sweat that dries and leaves a salt stain on your shirt. The water in the distance is a mirage.

Somewhere, in some desert, someone is dreaming of a place that is cool and damp and sodden with rain.

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