Rain shadow is too wet a phrase to mean dry
nearly silver
seeking among moss
tongues this
the big debut
chickpeas muttering
away on the stove-
top nose of bay
both reading until
a swell in grey rain
smiles//broken gaze
you say you’d move but
outside quenched
ruffled hovering
crow and the rain
inside the same
It’s bean season! Frankly, when isn’t it? It’s also rainy. When I first moved to Seattle, folks were throwing around the term “rain shadow” to describe the microclimates of Washington. This morning, when trying to title this poem something about a rain shadow, I learned that I was interpreting it the opposite way all along. Hmph. It actually means a place that stays dry due to hills/mountains. Visually, it almost makes sense, but then doesn’t again. Anyway, I kept it in the title but made it mean correctly.
For me, this is a cozy poem, capturing the first big rain of the season. The time when grey turns to silver. Here’s another favorite poem, also rain-core but much more.
On a blue sky note, we went backpacking up in a Cascades basin this weekend. Something about the geological bowl shape enables you to visualize the past, however slowly. The steady carve and slope — a small snow drift and a lake — all that remains of its former glacial glory.
Thanks for reading.