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April showers

April 20, 2016
Amy H. Peterson - Staff Writer (apeterson@esthervillenews.net) , Estherville News

It rained, and it rained and it rained. This weekend will be nice and rainy. The farmers need it, sure. The rain has become dangerous in Houston with flooding all over the largest urban area in the United States. The rain makes things muddy, moves indoors our fresh air plans, and keeps us on our devices for more hours.

Meteorologists tell us the rain comes because precipitation dynamics of winter and summer converge. "In the upper atmosphere, jet streams remain strong and the air holds on to some winter chill. At the surface, sunlight is strong, warming the ground, water and lower atmosphere. Warm, moist air is less dense than cold dry air, causing the air to rise into the colder upper atmosphere, squeezing out moisture into precipitation.

I think that's kind of like wringing out a wet towel.

This happens across most of the northern hemisphere. Not surprisingly, this abundance of atmospheric energy and moisture is why the peak of the severe weather season occurs in Spring. Yet somehow, it brings us May flowers. We hope. If it doesn't then decide toI can't say it. Oh I'm going to. No, you'll all write into the paper and tell them to not let me write anymore columns. Nope, here it goesif it doesn't actuallysnow!

Climate change aside, this is what I'm missing during our rainy season:

1) Raincoats, hats, wellies, etc. I had a red raincoat and matching hat as a kid. While I now eye the adorable trench coats in catalogs, I'm not sure I can justify the expense of a garment that would cover my expanse. One night, when I was about eight years old, my mother woke me out of a deep sleep and handed me my raincoat to slip on over my nightgown (I haven't seen one of those for sale these many years either; what is happening to classic, dowdy fashion anyway?) and to follow her. She was in her belted, buff-colored trench coat and I had my red vinyl lined in plaid, and put my hood up. And we danced through the puddles in the driveway, the sky pitch black, and only the light from not-too-near streetlights illuminating any of it, until a flash of lightning struck in the distance, then struck closer, and we ran in side where we had the last of the cocoa with semi-dry mini marshmallows.

I don't even remember if it was a school night, but I remember being very surprised I was allowed this all night party as usually bedtime was 8:30 sharp (halfway through The Rockford Files, ChiPs, and anything else I really wanted to keep watching).

2) Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Yes, mostly for the song, "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head," but also are cowboys not a thing anymore? With the deaths of Roy Rogers, John Wayne, and the aging and diversified interests of Clint Eastwood are we just not allowed to have any westerns in our lives? Or are we supposed to be too sophisticated for all that? I was going to find some obscure, fourth verse of "Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head," (by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, and owned by Warner Chappell Music, Inc.) just to keep you coming back for all the nerdy information I provide, exceptthere's not one. I knew all the lyrics and you probably do, too. First, the guy whose feet are too big for his bed, next, talking to the sun, the bridge, one thing I know; the blues they send to meet me won't defeat me; and then the third and fourth verses are the same, crying's not for me, until the end with the very last ~ nothing's worrying me.

It's April. The rain is pounding down. Someone needs to remix this song so we can enjoy it in our time, our age, our rainstorms, and today's raindrops that keep falling on my head (they keep falling).

 
 
 

 

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