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We got a little rain the other night. I did it, you know. The drought has gone on far too long, and my poor garden is showing the effects of severe thirst. So, I did a cute little rain dance, and apparently I have a talent for such things, because a bit of moisture dropped into our area on Halloween night.

I can’t really call it a rainstorm, and as a matter of fact I slept through the whole thing, but at least there was water in the birdbath when I got up in the morning and the hydrangea by the front porch, which was decidedly puny, had perked up quite a lot. The first-rain-of-the year aroma was a delight, as always.

I tend to get up early in the morning, which is a nuisance when night time temps are falling. In November, at four a.m. here in southern California, the thermometer can drop all the way down to the low fifties, which means a few extra pre-coffee minutes spent digging up slippers, a nice fleecy jacket, and a warm corn bag. Once I get all togged out, though, I can browse through the urgent emails (Re-Grow Hair With Our Product!) and check out my list of favorite blogs, and still get out to the sunroom in plenty of time to see the sun come up.

Yesterday’s sunrise was fabulous, with the traditional pinks and yellows in Day-Glo brightness contrasting with glittering satiny super-white streaks. (Apologies for the poetic tone, but I don’t know how else to share it.) This kind of morning happens seldom around here. In a typical year, we usually see more than three hundred days when daylight kind of oozes in with not much more than a few hazy minutes to tell us “Okay, dark is gone, light is here. Again.” Pretty boring, overall.

It seems that nobody really wants to commit, but there are rumors that this might turn out to be a year of El Niño, which means much more rain, a blessing for drought-ridden us, at least if it comes in a lot of small doses rather than flood-producing downpours. If the rumors are true, there might be a substantial number of gorgeous mornings and evenings around here, and that leads me to one of my favorite screen-savor quotes, which I made up in my working days:

Without clouds, there can be no spectacular sunsets.

 There must be a lesson in there somehow. I’ll work on it.

I’ll see you again, after the commercial.