Rain, Rain

A vigorous rain beat on my car as I came into the house.  I can’t complain, though.  Everyone says California needs rain.  People gaze out the window with smiles on their faces.  I broke down and bought a raincoat.

The sun shines often enough to make the storms palatable.  As I write, rain dances on my metal roof and against the sides of the harbor master’s RV parked in the next lot.  A lazy fly which has established residence in my tiny house hovered in the doorway when I came back from Lodi.  He seemed unsure of whether or not to exit.  I grew tired of waiting for him and closed the door.

That fly and the harbor master’s flickering neon lights, awakened me at 3:00 a.m. the last two nights.  I listened to the mild buzz, watched the dance from amber to blue to green, and thought about my life. On Monday, I rose at 4:00 after lying in bed for a couple of hours.  I drove to Emeryville for a doctor’s appointment, then over the bay to San Rafael to meet a friend for lunch.  When I finally descended into Rio Vista on Highway Twelve, ten hours later, my heavy eyelids fluttered.

Eventually, I’ll chase the fly outside.  I’ll introduce myself to the harbor master and ask if he could dim the lights for sleeping.  Surely he’s safe here.  Those LED  strips would hardly thwart anyone intent on folly anyway, even if the park had a problem with miscreants.

This pleasant life will end as soon as I find a job.  But until it does, I’ll fix a cup of tea in the afternoon.  Rain or not, I’ll sit admiring the willow trees, on the porch when the sun shines and at my table by the wide window otherwise.  It’s not a life that many would enjoy.  I might find myself pining for more by and by.  But it suits me fine for now.

It’s the twentieth day of the fifty-first month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.

Happy spring from me to thee.

To see more works by Nicole Thibodeau like the plein air on the wall behind me, click HERE.

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