So what can I say about the rain? Not that I need to say anything, since it's gotten into the annoying habit of speaking for itself lately. And not just speaking but SHOUTING. It's like an intoxicated party guest who doesn't know when to shut up or when to leave. And here it comes again. It's time to abridge that old nursery rhyme to "Rain rain go away" and just leave it at that. Don't come again some other day. Get off my doorstep. Don't hang around, bringing everybody down.
I'm sitting here staring out the window. I should be writing about how the rain turns the streets to silver, iridesces in oil-stained puddles, clears the air, and makes all things new again. But to tell you the truth, I'm perturbed by its insistence. I'm annoyed that I can't slow it down or turn it off. Its presence means I'm house-bound once again, unable to go for a walk, unless I venture out with umbrella or raincoat.
The rain comes in mirages shredded, according to poet Dean Young, and that's an apt description of last Wednesday's rain. Sheets of rain. Insults of rain. The sky inconsolably weeping. On Sunday, WGAL's Drew Anderson said this April set a new record for rainfall. The Susquehanna at Columbia hasn't been down to its normal level of 227 in months. What the hell's happening? This whole year, all four months of it so far, has been weird, from small scale to large. Earthquakes, tsunamis, meltdowns, tornadoes - and of course, rain, endless rain. Prophets old and new point to 2012 as the end of . . . something. But they don't say what. It's like the guy who keeps saying the end is near, but he never says how near. How much time is left?
The world seems to have gone wacko in many respects. The weather is going crazy, people are going crazy, and Mother Earth herself hasn't been feeling too well lately either. Some say it's the end times, and occasionally it feels that way, with all the chaos happening around us. I'm not one to believe in the "Book of Revelation," since I believe it to be the hallucinogenic ramblings of an ancient fanatic, but I do believe dusty, old prophecies may end up destroying us in some self-fulfilling way, saturated as they are with apocalyptic longing. There are too many zealots with too many weapons. We can't restrain them all. Sure, we finally got bin Laden - and good riddance - but someone will take his place, just waiting to bathe himself in martyr's blood, as well as the blood of innocents.
It's probably just the gloom of all the recent rain that's causing such dark thoughts, but all the same, some great cataclysm still seems inevitable, simply because human nature is what it is - irrational and contradictory. So maybe we'll get a real rain, a deluge that - for better or worse - will wash away everything. By contrast, the rain we've been having lately shouldn't seem so bad, but for some reason, the comparison doesn't give me much comfort.