14 October 2017 – That’s millimetres. Of rainfall. Setting a new day-record for Vancouver, drowning the old one by an additional 7.2 mm.
My phone’s weather app promises mere “Showers,” as I set out to join friends for a noon-time tap dance extravaganza. “Pfui,” says I (acclimatizing fast to my new environment), “what’s a few showers?”
And it is still only showers, as I pass the Tandem Bike Café, admiring this bike’s weather-wise accessory.
An hour later, we are in monsoon-land.
Leaves block sewer gratings, rivers course down the streets, cars shoot rooster plumes into the air as they aqua-plane through intersections.
In the theatre lobby, umbrella stands bloom with offerings.
I stuff mine in with the rest, tell myself there is a whole umbrella culture here that I have yet to learn.
An hour of tippety-tap magic, a half-hour’s homeward navigation on a meandering but very peaceful bus, and then …
It stops raining.
My window sparkles …
my balcony fern shimmers …
And I open an email from a long-time friend. Not just long-time — prescient as well.
She’s sent me a link to an article about umbrella culture in Japan.
Thank you, Linda.