Hmmm. The Rain.

There is something about a mid-August hot rain in the city. The way the thunder announces the inevitable downpour. Back in California, a summer rain would bring with it an absolutely unique smell. Some combination of wet manure and steam. And everybody would notice it, would comment on it. The smell of rain in the summer; such a rare occurance in the valley. But here, nobody but myself seems to notice the August rains. I seem to be the only one who as they walk the streets looks to the skys to greet the rain. I seem to be the only one who responds to the thunder with a wry smile. Likewise, I seem to be the only one without an umbrella, perpetually surprised by the summer rain. Well, to be perpetually surprised...