rain.
hail.
wind.
light.

golden light on mulberry branches.
leaves flickering at me from the drops.

standing at the bathroom window.
chin on seal watching my vigorous garden holding its head high to the wind driven hail.

i don't think you notice the rain, i mean really see it, experience it, if you haven't grown up in the desert.

i've always known the rain was my totem, my familiar, not just any rains, only the desert rains.