Rain is golden.
Hello from mercurial Miami, where the deeply studded dark clouds contrasting airy blue skies are part of the daily meteorological pattern of the wet weather season here. And yet, living in the mid-Atlantic, where we have had an unusual drought this summer, and having spent time this month in the Pacific Northwest, which was just burnt brown, the experience of rain takes on a spiritual importance.
It reminds me of a trip some 15 years ago, with Teijo, a cruise from Muscat to Piraeus, where we called at Oman's Salalah. It was so strange at that time to hear that this place was a touristic destination for Middle Eastern travelers in the early summer months who traveled there just to experience rain. Strange because rain has, for most of my life, been something taken for granted, something considered somewhat depressing. That's definitely not the case today. Tonight in Miami, at the end of a bone-dry summer, I totally get why Salalah, as a traveling destination, matters.
I'm heading back outside now to breathe the spectacularly wonderfully moist smell of rain, and to enjoy the pinpricks of water as they're showcased on urban street spotlights. Happy autumn, and see you later.
(photo comes from the torrential downpour on the open-air courtyard of my hotel in Miami's Edgewater neighborhood)
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