I live in the desert on purpose. The reason is simple – I don’t like rain. Never liked it, never will. In fact, I’d prefer that it never rain at all. Our water supply could be provided by the summer run-off of mountain snow. But apparently, I don’t get to decide such matters, as one look out the window will attest. Yes, it’s raining, and has been quite a lot this year. At the rate it’s going, this normally arid climate will soon be reclassified from desert to rainforest.
I’m convinced that the rain is slowly driving me crazy. The cold temperature. The soggy ground. The damp air. I try to stay busy doing everything I can that needs done – inside. But a guy can only take so much. I’ve considered moving to the Sahara, where it hasn’t rained for around a hundred years – but given my luck, it would rain the first week after I’d arrived. Rain seems to follow me wherever I go.
I’ve also contemplated offering my services for sale – a modern-day rain man. I wouldn’t even need a forked stick, all I’d have to do would be to show up. Then again, it probably wouldn’t work. If I actually wanted it to rain, there’d be a drought – sort of inversely raining on my parade.
Yes, rain is definitely one of my many pet peeves – my apologies to anyone who actually likes the stuff. And it appears that, there are quite a few people who do like it, even where I live. (I often wonder what they’re doing living in the desert if that’s the case). When I complain about the wet weather, I constantly hear them telling me, “But we need the rain.”
Actually, we don’t.
Rain, and the supposed dependency on rain, is highly over-rated. The existence of deserts and the nomads who have long thrived in those dry climates are proof – life can be sustained without rain. True, farmers like the rain – yet, they’re never satisfied. No matter how much precipitation falls, invariably, someone will utter the phrase, “But we need the rain.” I seem to hear it two or three times a week.
I have a pretty good idea the last thing Noah heard from outside the ark was a gargled gasp of, “But we need the rain.” Then, they all drowned.
Apparently, people haven’t changed much.
Bruce A. Borders, author and songwriter has over 500 songs and more than a dozen books. Over My Dead Body, The Journey, and Miscarriage Of Justice, his latest books, are available on Apple I-Pad®, Amazon Kindle®, Barnes & Noble Nook® and Sony Reader®, Kobo, Diesel Books, and Smashwords. For more information, visit www.bruceaborders.com. See Bruce’s Amazon Author Page at www.amazon.com/author/bruceaborders or view his Smashwords Profile at www.smashwords.com/profile/view/BruceABorders