shelling in the rain

It took its time getting here, but it is officially the rainy season.


Even though it did not quite rise to Wagnerian proportions, the rain arrived Sunday night accompanied with some thunder and a few lightening effects.  More Les Misérables than Götterdämmerung.


But I could hear the rain falling -- even above the hum of my sleep-inducing floor fan.  It sounded as if I had left the shower running full blast.


When I got up on Monday morning, the garden looked renewed.  The plants that had started to droop in the summer heat were revived.


My neighbors were strolling along the laguna.  The best thing about the summer rains is how the air seems to be immediately cooled.  The temperature was 81 degrees and the humidity was high.  But the air felt cool.  Cool enough that each walker wore a jacket.

 

But I discovered I was not alone on the patio.  As I sat down, what looked like a large stone took off at quite a pace toward the shrubbery.  So, I grabbed it and picked it up.


Being picked up was not what it had in mind as a good time.  Its feet started windmilling to good effect -- the claws managing to take a bit of flesh.


I am not certain what it was.  I suspect a tortoise.  But I know Gary Denness can let us know.  He may have left his turtles in Mexico, but his knowledge travels well.

I put it down, and off it scurried in a very non-tortoise fashion.  Just as I returned to follow Roosevelt, Churchill, and Stalin through another game of world poker, nature decided it was time for a rain encore.  Not one of the piddly, puddly showers we have had over the past two weeks.  More like Iguazu Falls.

 

When the rains come, I like to drive around town to see how quickly the streets fill with water.  This drive revealed why we do not refer to our street pavers as cobblestones.  They are called river rock.


From now until October or so, the rains will return to give us a bit of relief from the summer heat and humidity.  Temporary relief.  By the afternoon, the sun had returned to perform its alchemy of turning cool air into tropical damp.


This Friday I will see whether rains in San Miguel are better or worse than the June rains of Melaque.