I woke up to the sounds of rain--great flaps of it, and to the whistling of strong winds. From my kitchen window I see the tall evergreen trees swaying, and even the forsythia hedge that is not too tall is swaying. It is still yellow as yellow.
I like the swell of sounds. I’ve always loved rain, coming as I do from a tropical country where rain cools the earth. But if there’s the slightest mist on a cloudy day, the husband pronounces that it’s raining and will not go out.
Yesterday I was wondering what I’d write to you—whoever out there may be listening (let me know you are here!). I was feeling low and out of sorts, confused as we all are, the ones who are not battling fist to fist and eye to eye with this unsympathetic virus. Silly tropes about self worth are creeping up and infected my thoughts. I think it’s the lack of movement—on the train, to offices and meetings, the obligations of a project or person, getting paid, spending our money. Activity. Something for the calendar. Not always good, these things help us bury those unruly thoughts. Enough of that, now!
A friend tells me she devotes much of her day to cleaning. “Dust bunnies and grandchildren of dust bunnies, inside closets, under beds,” she says. “It’s something to hold on to.”
A day or two ago, I saw three masked men in black mascarillas walk in on the side of my neighbor’s property that faces my perch at the drafting table. It spooked me on the first take. Masked men in cowboy movies and thrillers are not nice at all. I was vigilant. It turns out they were ordinary gardeners, being vigilant too.
On sunny days or in in-between days when we do walk, the birds sing to us. There’s the repeated hollering of one guy, the call and response of friends, there’s the one who whistles what sounds like a piropo, and the occasional woodpecker, that lonely drummer who says it’s okay to be alone.
I’ve been eating a good number of Clementines so that none in the bag that I bought go to waste. That sour-sweet brightness wakes up my senses of smell and taste. I might not have noticed this so well before this pause in time.
Do you like the rain?
Panama WORDS OF THE DAY:
(in other words, a lot of water)
La LLUVIA (lah yoo-byah) – the rain, rainfall
El AGUACERO – the rain
Un BAJAREQUE – mist or light drizzle
Una LLOVIZNA – a light drizzle
Un CHAPARRÓN – a rainstorm, a sudden drenching
Un PALO DE AGUA – a very heavy rain
Una TORMENTA - a storm
Un DILUVIO – a deluge
Extra bonus:
un PIROPO (Pee-roh-poh) - a catcall, compliment
la MASCARILLA – half mask like the ones we are wearing during Covid19, or Zorro’s mask, or the partial ones worn during Mardi gras in Venice.