That little voice

We had a sizzling April in San Miguel de Allende, and thankfully May has brought showers and cooler weather. This is surprising because historically May is the hottest month in this high desert town in central Mexico.

With any luck the gods will grace us with more damp days and lower temperatures.

Summer is considered the rainy season, and two years ago we had lots of storms filling the arroyos and the reservoirs. However, last summer rain fell elsewhere, leaving our area parched and starved for needed moisture.

These teasing showers hopefully will usher in relief from hot May days. We shall see.

As I write this I am aware that for decades men have sat around cafe tables talking about the weather: today’s, tomorrow’s and yesterday’s. I thought it was because we lived in rural America and these farmers depended on knowledge of rain, snow, sun, wind for their livelihood. But, I’m beginning to understand the topic of seasons may have been fostered by boredom.

In this state of isolation it is becoming evident my focus is turning to whether the sky is clear or cloudy, if a breeze is coming from north or west, or even if there is a breeze. Weather is becoming more of a focal point in my idling thoughts because there is something calming and reassuring about nature. Certainly beats reading, writing, listening and thinking about Covid-19.

It is easy to become frightened about a virus running rampart across the planet, striking some, skipping others, but bringing pain, death and uncertainty to milliions of people. It’s the ‘not knowing’ that is disconcerting and unsettling.

Well, that and the changes I am having to make in my daily routine. Now I’m having to wear a mask if I dare open the front door. I must avoid my pattern of hugging a friend when seeing them, and heaven forbid if I get closer than six feet from them. So much for an ‘intimate’ conversations shouted from one side of the street to the other.

So, I take to thinking, talking and wondering about the weather. Thankfully, we have no tornados roaring through our town, and I haven’t felt the earth moving beneath my feet, so give me the unpredictability of weather over the deadly Coronavirus.

I’m tired of thinking about this virus thing.