Falling in Love in the Rain

The Smell Of Green

When it rained there
The drops had water in them;
Magnified by drips from the trees
Falling on the beamed ceiling roof
Spattering an unsteady staccato.

The front porch gave the best effect;
The water gurgling in the gully,
Rivulets patterning the driveway,
Sheeting rain, the air white-grey,
But not hiding the mountain waterfall.

© George Beckman 12/19/93

The poem is about my childhood home, in “The Canyon”. Ruth and I always said we fell in love in the rain. In La Verne, in Southern California, when it rained it rained. “The drops had water in them.”

We were in the library at La Verne College, now the University of La Verne, and decided to go for a drive. We got into my Black ’50 Chevy and she was impressed because the heater put out heat so soon. I didn’t tell her that it had only been parked there for about an hour and the “Stove Bolt Chevy” engine had not had time to cool off. We drove, that afternoon, with rain hitting the windshield while the old vacuum wipers struggled to swish back and fourth. I don’t remember where we went; West, I think and probably up the canyon. The canyon, where I grew up was spectacular in the rain. If we did go up the canyon, the drops from the huge oaks along the narrow road up to the dam made extra loud plops on the roof. Because driving is the perfect time to talk, we talked, I suppose, about our histories, our lives. It was a great afternoon. We fell in love.

In New Mexico, when it rained, it rained. New Mexico, summer afternoon rains made La Verne rains seem like a drizzle. There, at 5,000 feet it could be getting warm… 85. The clouds would begin to build over the Jemez Mountains and the Sangre De Cristo Mountains. It didn’t take long, perhaps an hour. Then it would rain… hard. The temperature would drop 20 degrees in 15 minutes and lightening would repeat it’s forked trip to the ground three times. We fell in love in the rain.

In Madera, it rarely rained hard. Father always said, “A Madera rain just keeps ahead of drying out.” Occasionally it would really rain. We loved to look into the pasture when the air was grey-white. We loved to hear it on the trees outside our bedroom window. We fell in love in the rain.

The first time we saw Graestone, it was raining. Not hard, but the driveway had bushes hanging heavy with drops. It was January, but it was clean and fresh. It cleared up that afternoon and we stood in the front yard, Bobby, Rachel, Lizzy, Ruth, Linda our realtor and me, held hands in a circle. We said a prayer and signed the papers on the back of Linda’s little SUV. We had fallen in love with this place, in the rain.

We were so excited and were dying to see the place again. Linda worked it out that we could bring our friends Randy and Margie and Margie’s father Ed to see the place in February. We drove up and it was raining. We wandered around in the rain, looking at both barns and then, carefully wiping our feet, went through the house. We fell in love with it again, in the rain.

In May it was time for the home inspection. Our friend Lee had given us the name of a local Win Home Inspections expert and Linda arranged for us to be here. It was raining. Her husband, Jeff, came to look over the diesel furnace… serial number 22. The furnace fired up and the inspector said things were OK. We were still in love with the place and each other, in the rain.

We finally got the keys, on June second. It was raining and cold in Colfax. We knew the blower switch on the furnace was faulty and so I rigged an extension cord to hot wire the blower. The furnace rumbled to life, the house began to warm up and feel cozy. Rachel was here to help us lug some things we had brought. It was a great day, and it was raining. We fell in love in the rain.

This morning it is raining. We went to bed in the rain, woke up to rain and at 10:00 AM it is still raining. We ate at our red table in the breakfast nook and sang our morning song Margie taught us:

“God has created a new day,
Silver and green and gold…
Live that the sunset will find you
Worthy His gifts to hold.”

Ruth tagged in “and gold and wet” We smiled.

It is almost July. We are in the living room with the pellet stove going. We have a wood beamed ceiling. It is “green on green” outside. We are talking about walking down to the mail box, in the rain.

It is raining with an inch and a half in the gauge. We are in love.