All last week, in our parched California, the news media (online,
in print, and on the air) blared from every possible corner: RAIN IS COMING! (Triple
exclamation, but I’ll stick with one.)
It’s a big deal, after two years of miserably low precipitation.
The day before many times a day the news stations wouldn’t
stop talking about it. Even Queen Elizabeth’s funeral preparations made for
small breaks in what really mattered—
RAIN IS COMING, and it’s going to be BIG RAIN.
Get your umbrellas out of the closet. Be careful on the
roads. You’ll be awakened by possible thunderstorms. Stay inside and bake
cookies on Sunday and be careful going to work on Monday.
I awoke early Sunday and looked outside. Not a drop. I
checked in the back yard where I have a rain collector. Not a drop. It hadn’t
so much as sprinkled overnight.
I went to the curb to put the garbage and recycling bins out
for Monday’s collection. On the other side of the street, I saw a young man
walking, holding an open umbrella over himself and wearing a raincoat. It was
as dry as could be.
I wondered if it was just me or the world had lost its
senses.
Many hours later, it did rain. It rained a little. Then
the sun came out. Later, it rained once more. Also, just a little.
Monday came, and the sun was shining. The hourly news kept
telling us not to be fooled. The sunshine could and would turn to showers at a moment’s
notice.
It never did.
I was happy for the bit of rain. As I said, we needed it. It
also meant I can skip a single yard watering, and every bit counts. But it made
me think of how media lives to augment and distort reality. Not because they
got a weather prediction wrong (this happens), but because even as reality
outside said otherwise, the news kept insisting in real time that it was Noah’s
flood.
I thought about the raincoat-wearing man with the
open umbrella who preferred to believe the news rather than his own eyes.
Many analogies, on the left and the right, popped into my
mind. This is what occurred to me: it is immoral to live off intentional propelling
of hysteria.
I made a note to self to always pay attention to what I am
experiencing, and less to the hyperbolic tendencies of the media.
And when the next rain comes, I will say, “Welcome. Glad you’re
here.” That, and no more.
6 comments:
I'm sorry you didn't get the predicted big rain. On the northern end of the Sonoma coast, where I live, we had gully washers! I was thrilled to see so much rain (our gauge measured 2.75 inches), thrilled for the trees and plants to get a drink at last, thrilled for the streams to run over the bluffs and cascade down to the beaches. And I loved staying in, all cozy, reading, yet looking up to see the rain come down while hearing it pound the skylights. It was glorious rain indeed.
Like you, MirkaK, I love rain and most especially first rain.
It seems that California has cycles of about 10 years of drought, followed by a mudslides-and-flooding year. I don't believe what the tv weather people say anymore. I look at the sunset instead. (Red sky at night: sailor's delight.) Or I ask my arthritic fingers if it's going to rain soon. ;-)
Good for you, Barbara. Thumb's up!
Grrr. So much hype...I hope you get some good rain soon. My head always knows when a storm is coming and I stopped watching the news a long time ago.
"... I stopped watching the news a long time ago."
I would still watch and always listen to different sources. But my firsthand experience will take complete precedence.
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