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.
Maynard G Krebs, eh? You are dating yourself. next thing you will be talking about 45 RPM records. Funny the last two or three generations don't have the foggiest idea of either.
ReplyDeleteNow, if you lived inland, in a place like San Miguel de Allende or Patzcuaro, you'd have rain.
ReplyDeleteConstantino -- I date myself because no one else will.
ReplyDeleteJennifer Rose -- We finally had rain this morning. It is cool (relatively) out there. Time to take advantage of it by walking the dog.
Drums in the night: I took the son and his buds to a local quarry camping some years ago. There were plans for a long weekend swimming and camping out. The Hooka Tribe Band was to play on Sunday and their fans were there in mass. These people started beating on their bongos at about midnight and did not stop till sunrise. When I rolled out I was in a foul mood and as I made the pancakes, eggs and bacon for our breakfast, I was none too quite with my pans. The boys laughed, I fed the bongo kids when they got up and we swam all day but I slept in my own bed that night.
ReplyDeleteHere in SC we have just dropped back into an official drought because, for the first time since 1893, we had less than 3 inches combined for July and August. Crap!
ReplyDeleteHope your rain picks up... just remember that we didn't steal it up here in the Upstate!
Julian
Who was one of the writers for Dobie Gillis?
ReplyDeleteI think your and Jiggs's lives are in danger. When the villagers learn that the rainfall dropped after your arrival the causal connection will be made in their heads. Then you shall lose yours.
A. N. Moose
Steve, great picture.
ReplyDeleteJust finished reading some of the blogs from in and around Guaymas. My goodness, so much destruction post Jimena. They stated they were expecting another couple of inches of rain.
When the drumming started up near my house in San Miguel de Allende, down in the barrio of Valle de Maiz, I asked Laura what what was going on. She told me, "They're drumming for rain. They always do that during dry spells."
ReplyDeleteMaybe the drummers in Melaque were druming for rain, too.
Norm -- The joys of camping.
ReplyDeleteJulian -- I feel your rain.
A.N. Moose -- OK. I took a look at the list of writers, but I see not your name. And certainly not GV.
Canadiangirl -- It appers that Guaymas got all the inches we needed. Thank you for the compliment. I am amazed at the colors that show up in the dusk skies.
John -- If they were rain drummers, they must have taken their training from the Sousa band.
Hahahaha, you're funny! Yes, this is what you'll need if you don't drive like a Mexican.
ReplyDeleteHey, I love this picture. Can I use it for my desktop picture???? It's really beautiful.
Mexican Trailrunner -- Feel free to desktop away.
ReplyDelete