In late May, we're enjoying the heat. The town's quiet; the warm, still nights are lovely. Our swamp coolers kick much ass. A few weeks later, we might get cranky if we don't have air conditioning. The bugs thunk against the windows, and one day, we decide that the cooler must be broken. Climbing the ladder armed with a screwdriver, we notice a strip of silver in the southeast—clouds building over Mexico. We descend the ladder, knowing that it's The Season, and accept 87 degrees inside as the new normal. Soon, we become impatient and look longingly to the south, and then we check the forecast. When the radio's interrupted with an emergency broadcast, we hope against hope that it's a storm warning, deflating when we hear that "this is only a test." But one day, it happens—clouds build and build, and there is RAIN, loud hard and cool, and we run onto our porches, or into the streets. We call friends and post on Facebook and cheer a collective RAIN! The RAIN is here!!!
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