The Mysteries of the West

I awoke this morning to a low rattling sound. I briefly wondered if I was experiencing an earthquake. This being only my third month in California, I still carry all the East Coast paranoia about the West’s tectonic instability. The bed wasn’t shaking though, so I cast a wider mental net. The sound continued.

I sat up in bed to try and locate the its origin. The rattle was not inside the house, it was coming from outside. It wasn’t loud enough to be concerning, but now it had gone on for so long, I was intrigued and curious.

My husband, who arrived here a month ago, was awakened, too. He saw my puzzled figure and in a voice that was half reassuring and half exasperated he explained: “Sonja, it’s raining.”

I’m already more a Californian than I thought.