Somewhere. Someone. Was drumming.
Probably further down the bay in Melaque proper. Sound can play strange tricks over water.
And it travels. Just like people and their dreams.
It sounded as if Maynard G. Krebs had taken his bongo to drug and bugle corps practice. But there were no bugles.
Just drums.
It made an interesting backdrop to the close of a hot and sunny Saturday. Jiggs and I sat out on the deck. He was watching doggy theater as skim boarders, joggers, dogs, horses, and fishers put on a show -- just for him.
I was going to try to finish up a news magazine I had been reading off and on for two days. It will now be three days -- at least. Because the evening was too beautiful to read.
As much as I do not like the heat and humidity of tropical Mexico, I love the sea.
Tonight it was almost flat. As the sun started to set, some cumulus clouds started their poppin' fresh march across the ocean's horizon from the south. They were benevolence personified.
But as often happens in tales of this sort, something started to change them. I doubt it was a wizard. But it was just as startling.
Within a half hour they must have quadrupled their height -- and, in the process, started generating their own special effects. Thunder. Lightning. Rain.
And not a bit of that drama on land. It was as if Norma Desmond had wandered into camera range and was not to going to move one step out of focus.
We could have used the rain. On Friday, we had a bit. But August was almost a bust.
The entire country is suffering from its driest spell in 70 years. Some cities are rationing water usage. Reservoirs are running dry. Farmers are losing livestock and crops.
And this area is no expection. A regular poster on one of the local message boards keeps track of our weather. For August, the rainfall was 3.57 inches, the lowest amount since she has been keeping records. Remember, August is the height of the rainy season.
She offered some past years for comparison:
Probably further down the bay in Melaque proper. Sound can play strange tricks over water.
And it travels. Just like people and their dreams.
It sounded as if Maynard G. Krebs had taken his bongo to drug and bugle corps practice. But there were no bugles.
Just drums.
It made an interesting backdrop to the close of a hot and sunny Saturday. Jiggs and I sat out on the deck. He was watching doggy theater as skim boarders, joggers, dogs, horses, and fishers put on a show -- just for him.
I was going to try to finish up a news magazine I had been reading off and on for two days. It will now be three days -- at least. Because the evening was too beautiful to read.
As much as I do not like the heat and humidity of tropical Mexico, I love the sea.
Tonight it was almost flat. As the sun started to set, some cumulus clouds started their poppin' fresh march across the ocean's horizon from the south. They were benevolence personified.
But as often happens in tales of this sort, something started to change them. I doubt it was a wizard. But it was just as startling.
Within a half hour they must have quadrupled their height -- and, in the process, started generating their own special effects. Thunder. Lightning. Rain.
And not a bit of that drama on land. It was as if Norma Desmond had wandered into camera range and was not to going to move one step out of focus.
We could have used the rain. On Friday, we had a bit. But August was almost a bust.
The entire country is suffering from its driest spell in 70 years. Some cities are rationing water usage. Reservoirs are running dry. Farmers are losing livestock and crops.
And this area is no expection. A regular poster on one of the local message boards keeps track of our weather. For August, the rainfall was 3.57 inches, the lowest amount since she has been keeping records. Remember, August is the height of the rainy season.
She offered some past years for comparison:
2004: 4.72"
2005: 13.16" (unusual, annual total was only 25.40")
2006: 7.74"
2007: 8.99"
2008: 7.75"
Jiggs and I tend to see those numbers from a selfish standpoint. Each missing inch means a day that was hotter than it could have been.
The drums eventually stopped. The rains never came.
It was a fine Saturday. But one that could have been a bit damper.
Jiggs and I tend to see those numbers from a selfish standpoint. Each missing inch means a day that was hotter than it could have been.
The drums eventually stopped. The rains never came.
It was a fine Saturday. But one that could have been a bit damper.
