With wind comes the rain Lost in the sweep of the horizon

 

A few years ago, I learned that one of my favourite sensations in the entire world has a formal name: petrichor. There are few sensations of the human experience I love as much as petrichor. 

There was a little bit of it on Sunday and Monday with the much-needed, though sadly no where near enough, rain. The way that the rain drops strike the soil are like these little pin pricks of joy into your heart. Being surrounded by grass hills and big beautiful trees of various kinds just adds a whole different layer to the beauty of the petrichor sensation. The soil, grass, eucalyptus, the redwood, the salt of the sea air--all of it converges into what is nothing short of unparalleled beauty, and awe-inspiring humility.

Most mornings on the coast are damp mornings--that's fine by me. I don't mind cold humidity. I know we need the moisture. It's just not a replacement for rain.

Foggy and wet mornings are a comfort to me. But they make me miss my grandmother. Today would have been her 95th birthday. She loved the fog and the rain. Maybe that's where I get it from.

I just it to rain more, and not just for my own selfish fulfillments. I mean, yes, I want the restoration to my mortal soul that rain brings me, but I also want it for the planet, you know?!

One of my favourite sensations is being in the car and having someone else drive (because I don't drive) around the Santa Cruz mountains. Unfortunately,  both the current gas prices and the lack of rain aren't allowing that right now, but maybe someday soon it can happen again.