“I know it’s everyday for you
I ain’t from ‘round herrre”

Those Mark Ronson lyrics have been in my head these last days. It’s about to get rainy for weeks to come. So far, here in El Valle, this has meant at least one hour a day of warm, intense, might-as-well-be-standing-in-the-shower downgush. Drops hammer on the leaves and roof and you don’t hear much else. Even the wildlife, normally so vocal, pipes down while the sky’s taps are turned on.

Most of humanity, heck most living things that have ever existed, experience some form of this weather. Rainy seasons, monsoons, are facts of life in most of Asia, Africa, and the Americas. But, other than a few heavy summer storms, I’ve never experienced this type of precipitation pattern.

So I’m allowing myself to be fascinated by a phenomenon that’s commonplace from Mombasa to Mumbai, Bangkok to Bogota. If tourists in Toronto can get excited experiencing a white Christmas or spotting a gray squirrel in Queen’s Park, then I can get behind (and under) this weather.