A Cup and a Paper

Last Sunday during the storm I noted that the rain’s arrival was oddly comforting. I had woken up at an early hour, which was out of the ordinary for me. When I can’t sleep I get a book out and read. Around 5 I heard an odd noise outside like a metal garbage can being moved. The lights flickered.

While the ocean is already amazing this close to the coast, the rain can be more so. Normally from my house almost a half mile from the beach I can hear the waves at night. It is like white noise in the distance. When I go to the corner of my block I can see them. In contrast, the rain and wind slam against my window and leave me wondering at their power.

At times this kind of weather can be suffocating. I can’t take the bike out for fear of accidents. The bus system always breaks when it rains. I don’t own a car. It is as if I am always stuck when it rains. That morning I got my (broken) umbrella and walked to the local café. I wore wool. The southern side of the streets was more protected from the wind and therefore less wet. The power was out all over the place. I asked the paper man in his truck for a paper. He told me to stay dry.

Yet for all its inconvenience the rain can be comforting. Sitting there listening to the locals murmur about recent gossip and politics I felt warm and dry indeed. I reflected on how I awoke thinking of an excuse to stay in bed curled up with my pillow. I realized that as the neighborhood woke up and assessed the storm damage there really wasn’t a better place to be than at the café with a cup and a paper.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.