Monday, June 11, 2007

rain

I just stepped outside to check my mail. (I park on a side of the building such that the shortest route to my unit does not go past the mailboxes.) It's barely drizzling, just enough to make washing a car pointless and to unlock that wet pavement smell. You know the one I'm talking about. There's an odd earthiness to it, even though it's a mix of water, concrete, asphalt and bizarre chemicals leaching to the surface. I really like that smell. In my mind, it signals the start of a rain storm and I've always enjoyed the rain (except when driving on unfamiliar roads at night with old windshield wipers). Perhaps my enjoyment comes from growing up where it didn't rain a depressingly large amount. And now that I live in a desert climate, the rain's rare occurrences are all the more special.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Yeah, what is that smell? I like it, too. Must be a genetically-inclined proclivity. Not too weird, I trust.