November rain

The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.
--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

All summer we prayed for rain. The moderate Northwest Corner, where even in summer the rains visit occasionally, was scalding hot and parched, week after week. In usually cool and rainy June, we had a long string of ultra-high temperatures, reaching as high as 108 degrees (42.2º C).

Then came November, and our prayers were belatedly answered.  The "Pineapple Express" -- an "atmospheric river" from the area of Hawaii.  Two of them already.  The rains were continual, day after day.  Not were continual, but have been and are continual.  My gutters are clogged.  The water overflows them, and falls in sheets upon the ground.  It overflows the gutters where two gables meet, dumping water down an unused outdoor stairway, water that then flows under an unused doorway into my basement-level garage.

My garage has water several inches deep in places, but the water luckily does not submerge the entire garage.  Why not?  Because the garage floor is slightly uneven, and at a certain depth, water seeps under the door into the basement.  From there, it crosses from one side of the basement to the other in a winding stream, ultimately disappearing into the floor drain that an architect, now long dead, cleverly thought to install near the laundry area.  

The water therefore never fills the entire garage.  Sooner or later, someone will come to unclog my gutters.  Until then, my basement drain is sufficient to maintain the status quo in the garage.

But enough of my hydrological calculations.

The days have been getting darker.  Of course they've been -- this is November.  But the dark cloud overcast has exaggerated the usual November darkness.  Not just for a day or two, but for close to two weeks.  And the rain has continued unabated -- at times, heavier than others, but virtually never ending.  The Seattle Times saw fit to devote a feature article to the inability of Seattle residents to take their daily walks.  Walks important to us not only for fitness, not only for relief of tension, but also as daily markers around which we arrange our other activities.  For some, mainly the elderly, the daily walk is their only activity, as necessary to them as a daily visit to a grocery or coffee shop might be to others.

Less daunted than many others by water, I've been walking each day even while it's raining.  I keep my eye on my phone's weather app and choose a time when the rainfall is predicted to be less formidable than others.  I've learned how misleading predictions of rainfall can be in the Northwest Corner -- even predictions over just the next two hours -- but in general the app has been helpful, even if hardly infallible.  And as I've pointed out on other occasions, I can tolerate being drenched.  I'm insoluble in water.

But life has been nevertheless gloomy.  My cats agree -- sometimes braving the elements and returning with sodden fur, other times lying listlessly about the house when they're not snapping at each other.

But today -- after heavy rains in the morning -- the gloom lifted.  The sun emerged from the clouds.  The sun! The Golden Orb of legend!  Within minutes, some of the water was already draining from the sidewalks.  The temperature rose to 61 degrees (16º C).  My cats perked up and hastened to the window to check out developments..

I slipped on a jacket -- I didn't trust the rain not to slyly return -- and went for a walk in the Arboretum.  My God!  It was beautiful!  Everything stood out, so crisp and fresh!  The trees -- many of which still retain much of their autumnal color-- stood out against a partially blue sky.  Birds were flitting around.  

And for at least the first half hour, the normally well-trod paths of the Arboretum were empty, except for me.  I had beat everyone to the outdoors, and enjoyed a short time of solitary communion with nature.

Since then, we may have had a shower or two, but it's predicted to be generally clear skies until Thursday, and then more clear skies from Friday through Sunday.

Yeah, I know.  My weather app lies.  But I'll believe it for as long as I can.  Dryness!  I hope for dryness!  And sunshine!

Here comes the sun do, do, do
Here comes the sun
And I say it's all right.

--The Beatles