I get wet, I get dry

I've been neglecting my blogs recently - I've thought of posts, not got round to posting them or quite simply just felt blah.... I'm sure its just my adjustment to my summer....

Anyway....

I've just been to my local (and favourite) coffee shop, Rue De La Course on Magazine St and devoured the Sunday Times Picayune and the Sunday NY Times. Lots of fodder for my grey matter (and future posts..). However I do miss the Observer and Scotland on Sunday - reading them online just isn't the same and the chances of me smearing my forehead with newsprint ink is far less likely. I love having a Sunday to commune with newspapers. I firmly believe that was what God truly intended "His" day for!!

I was walking home along Magazine when it began to drizzle. I thought about how rare it seems in N'awlins to find drizzle, that widely loved and hated Scottish phenomenon. N'awlins Fog there is plenty of - particularly in the Autumn and "Winter". But drizzle, no. And I thought that, other than my newspapers getting a little soggy, how nice it was to walk in warm drizzle.

It made me think of Stefan, one of my parents' friends from Belgium. We went on holiday as a family to Brussels to see Stefan when I was about ten. I remember we went for a walk in the woods and it began to rain. My Mum quickly got out our waterproofs and kitted us out. But Stefan just stood there in his shorts and T-shirt in the rain getting wet. My sister, brother and I used to the bone-chilling aspect of Scottish rain, were shocked. "You'll get wet!!" we cried. "I'll get dry again!" Stefan replied.

So I was walking in the spirit of Stefan when N'awlins decided to defy me and show how rare indeed the event of N'awlins drizzle is, and really rain. Luckily I was spared the usual downpour - when the heavens open and God dumps his bath water on your head! But my newspapers are decidedly soggy!!

Singing in the Rain

I woke this morning at 5am. The rain woke me. As I lay, trying to return to the joysome land of sleep, I heard a peculiar bird whom also had, no doubt, been awakened by the rain storm. He was singing his heart out in spite of his rain soaked plumage.

His song had two verses:

pieo pieo - ti ti ti ti - ti yi ti - pieo

pieo - ti ti ti ti - ti ti ti ti - ti yi ti - pieo

[pieo - quarter note; ti ti ti ti - 4 sixteenths; ti yi ti - triplet]

He was quite mesmerizing and had brilliant rhythm and pitch enough to make Messiaen go quite giddy!!

I will likely never know the type of bird who sang in the rain but I appreciated his help in passing the time until the wondrous gates of sleep opened once more to my willing being!