Pouring

I'd woken up to the sound of the sea spilling from the sky. Church bells rang out nine times. When it rains the air molecules must vibrate differently because the sound seems fuller, and damp. Outside a fast rushing wind shakes awake sleeping birds hidden in the trees. They puff out their chests and bury their heads deeper into their feathers and let out a nearly soundless sigh. Slowly some switch a sleepy leg and shut both their eyes. The streets below, glistening and dark, are littered with fallen yellow leaves, for winter rains always wash the last of the leaves from the trees. Poor souls who have to venture out into the early Sunday morning wetness can be heard swooshing past in their slippery cars. Rain beats against the windows like crashing waves and the church bell rings once more to mark the half hour. Puddles form in pools on the roof and from its edge little waterfalls pour out gushing into a shared alleyway. Rivers rage along the gutters and get sucked up by thirsty sewers. Rain like that can't last long in San Francisco and soon it softens to a reluctant trickle. Beads of rain fall like sweat from the brows of buildings and tears seem to stream over gray glass windows. Somewhere a cat seeks refuge under a musty old wooden deck, choosing its crouched steps carefully, to avoid the leaks which threaten to touch the tips of the cat's ears, it settles on a safe spot and waits. Lovers pull each other close in their beds and are thankful they have nothing to do and nowhere to be but warm and dry and cozy and contented. Some wake alone with bloodshot eyes, dry mouths and headaches, and whimper softly in gratitude that the day has been given back to them. This is a day to be spent idly. Others mourn the loss of a sunny Sunday and think of all that the day could have been. They regret nature's inconsiderate cruelty and curse the sun for its cowardice. They forget all is not lost, that the sun still shines. It's there, way up above the clouds, contemplating their milky mystery, the way they make the world vanish and then reappear, changed; wetter, darker, lonelier.