Conjuring Rain

In mid November I walked in the hills above Gaviota with a friend. Although a wash of low clouds portended rain, I simply felt, five years deep into a drought, that the sky was once again bluffing. A mist as gentle as eyelashes darkened the dust. Were we in a fog cloud or was this really rain? We could see the slim lines of a soft shower—rain. While hiking, a shift in the air was palpable as the plants gave up their scent. I inhaled eucalyptus, buckwheat, coyote brush, sage as the earth exhaled, releasing her pungent perfumes... (read more)

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